Grey's Family: Part 3
by Iresol
Summary: The Saga continues with Sarah now working for Ryan, Grey's family getting bigger, Mack's life getting more complicated, and of course Victoria joining the FRG.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I had someone ask about Mack and someone else make a comment about him

_Author's Note: I had someone ask about Mack and someone else make a comment about him. So I decided to write a fic about him and have been inspired. I'll have this story in POV and who's it is at the top of the page. Hope you all enjoy it. _

**Outside of Fort Griffith.**

**Sarah.**

What had to be the hundredth car of the night passed me as I attempted to remove the lug-nuts from my Mustang's flat. They were not coming off and it was hotter then hell out, not to mention the heat rose in waves off the blacktop. It was like hell.

At first I had tried to use strength to loosen said bolts that held my flat tire oh-so-firmly in place.

Then I tried jumping on the tire iron.

While I was indeed in the best shape of my life after joining the Army, I wasn't heavy enough.

I then moved onto kicking said tire iron, swearing at said tool, and finally hitting it with the jack while swearing at it. All in uniform as cars passed one-by-one. I fought the urge to throw said jack through one of their windows. But that would have been conduct unbecoming, and Armando would not have approved.

Which left me to apply another nicotine patch.

After Armando's death, I had taken up smoking during the brief depression. Now I was trying to quit. Which also was killing me. Other then the sun beating down on my camo covered skinny ass, which since I was skinny and toned for the first time in my life, one would think the General of the Army would want his troops to show off said looks…no…no, no, no.

Anyway, I flipped off a car full of male civilian's that drove by looking right at me. Then slapped patch number five on for the day. Or maybe it was six.

I'd given up caffeine too.

That wasn't fun, even the drill sergeant could attest to that and the withdrawals I suffered.

A ciggy and Pepsi would be super at the moment. This whole bottle of water thing got old after a while. Instead I turned my attention back to the flat tire, on the side of the road, and considered shooting it.

Maybe that would work?

If not I'd feel much better.

Whoever said guns didn't solve problems was oh-so-wrong.

I checked my watch and determined I would be AWOL within the hour. I was a mere eight miles from base. I could so walk there, even jog. I could come back for the car later.

"Got a flat?"

My day was just getting better by the moment! I was going to need another patch. As I dug one from my pocket none other then Mack Gerhardt jogged on up. All red and sweaty from the sun and exercise. I found a non-covered part of skin on my stomach and glared at him, "No. I'm sunbathing you moron. Have you not looked at a thermometer today? It's a hundred and ten degree's, are you trying to give yourself a heat stroke?"  
We were both enlisted. I could mouth off. Plus I had already made sergeant. People loved me. Soon I'd outrank Red.

He ignored my obviously witty remark and looked to my tire. "Run over children?"

"A gaggle of elderly nun's," I corrected, finding a spot, I smacked patch number six down and prayed the nicotine would enter my bloodstream soon. Shoved the trash in my pants and asked, "Do you have a cell phone?"

He glanced down at the short PT Shorts and no shirt he had on.

Smartass.

I crossed my arms and tried not to glisten too much under the sun. He was glistening quite a bit.

"No. Hold this."

He handed me his water bottle and Ipod. Then grabbed the tire iron I'd been doing battle with for hours, and with a few turns of his muscled arms, turned the lug-nuts like they were all oiled.

"We're you hitting this with the jack?"

"A rock too," I told him while wiping his glisten on my heavy pant leg. The last thing I needed or wanted was his glisten on my uniform.

Once the lug-nuts were loosened he set the jack under the appropriate spot, "Where's the metal bar that came with it?"  
Oh…that…I walked across the empty road and looked around the grassy side. Eventually I found it, crossed the still empty road and handed it to Mack. Who took it without question. Inserted it into said jack, and then jacked up my beloved mustang.

The sun beat down on the idiot.

So I stepped in the way of the massive rock, giving him some sort of protection. He didn't strike me as a sun block sort of guy. While he made my pride and joy rise up from the ground, he commented, "Sarah, I didn't know you cared."

I snorted.

"Please…if you drop dead now of exposure, or heat exhaustion, I'll have to provide aide. And I don't have the time for that."

He looked up at me and inched over to the flat. He began to remove the lug-nuts. I followed him. I shadowed him. And I gave him a _when hell freezes over look_.

"Are you going to be at your sister's BBQ?"

A semi passed by. Providing us with a brief breeze, and flying dirt. "So what of it?"

Nothing but silence came as he pulled the flat off my car.

"Aren't you filing for divorce? Shouldn't you be hanging out at strip clubs? Screwing every piece of ass at the local bar you can? Why on God's Green Earth would you be attending a BBQ? Especially on the fourth? You're a soldier Mack, the opportunities to get laid are priceless today."

Upon handing me the flat, he informed me, "You have quite a mouth on you."

For what had to be the third time that week I shouted, "Then quit stalking me!"

He shoved the doughnut on.

My beloved car shook and my heart skipped a beat. I could so picture my car rolling off the road.

I hurried and rolled my flat to the back and tossed it in the open trunk.

"Why don't you quit smoking," he countered.

He was grinding my nerves.

So I spat, "Does _Tiffy_ know you're having the fourth at _my sister's house_? Does she know you're taking your _daughter's_? She doesn't like my sister." I slammed the trunk for added emphasis. Which was stupid cause I'd have to pop it again to put the tools back.

But there was no turning back now.

I was making a point.

He was putting the lug-nuts on all humanitarian like, "Do I need to bring anything?"


	2. Chapter 2

Outside Fort Griffith

**Outside Fort Griffith.**

**Later that Day.**

**Victoria**

We heard Sarah arrive long before we saw her that afternoon. I was in my kitchen with Kim, preparing the Chicken Salad for the buns and the hot dogs for the grill. We'd gotten a lot done for the short time we had been home.

"How can he expect us to get all that reading done in one day? It's insanity. I have a family to take care of, I can't be getting eighty pages of reading for some silly class, one I don't need."

Kim had a very good point concerning our World Lit class.

I opened the door to the fridge with my bare foot, "Read the book notes online. That's what I've been doing."

The small apartment I shared with Charles, Charlie and Gabriel was full of guests. Charles and Jonas were grilling in the backyard, the herd of children were outside somewhere with paintball guns. We'd given them the paintball guns instead of water-guns, we figured we could at least follow the trail of paint through the neighborhood if they weren't back soon. Or we could call Uncle Doug, who had gone paint-balling with them.

Ryan would be here soon.

Mack was in the living room talking with some of Charles's other "co-workers". And my family was littered around, all seven of them.

I'd lost track of Bob and Molly.

Kim stopped cutting the tomatoes, "Have you started the paper for his class yet?"

"What paper?"

She looked up from the red veggie, "The one due next week on a classic. Three hundred pages…it's in the syllabus."

With a shrug, because I really was not concerned about it, "I'll do it tonight. I've read enough classics, I'll be fine. I'm more concerned about the test I have in Anatomy. I only have a hundred and twenty bones memorized. Have you seen the wings?"

"Molly took them into the living room. Some of the men were getting hungry."

Ah, the men.

There were enough men in the house to feed the Russian Army. Not that there were a lot, but they had to consume a boatload of calories to keep their athletic builds, and work out like freaks. Like Charles, I had to make sure he took in at least three thousand calories daily. He needed to be buff and in shape for work. No exceptions.

"Molly left the salad," I observed and Kim laughed.

She wasn't that bad.

A little reserved and well behaved, but everyone needed normal friends. I kicked the fridge closed and the backdoor that came into the kitchen cracked. Sarah peeked in, "Pssst."

Kim and I turned.

Sarah hissed, "You didn't tell me they're here!"

"They're" being our biological father, her mother and my stepmom, her grandmother and my step grandmother. People for some reason Sarah wasn't fond of.

She loved Ryan to death, always had, oddly.

"They are your parents," I informed her.

"Ssshhhhh!"

Right.

She crawled in and sat down on the floor, in front of the stove, leaning against it. Keeping low. She didn't have to worry, we'd redone the apartment and there was a wall now separating the kitchen from living room.

Only an open doorway.

"Make them leave," she ordered.

Kim gave her an odd look.

She still had her BDUs on. Hadn't even had time to change. She dug through her pocket and pulled out a nicotine patch. Removed four from her arm, they were obviously not working, and she smacked the new on her arm. She then snapped her fingers and trashed the other patches, "Make it snappy. I want some wings."

The _mouth_ had a nose like a wolf.

"Sarah, if you're trying to quit, a friend of mine did hypnosis," Kim offered, her twang usually bothered Sarah. But today the face was from the suggestion, "Oh Wake Up!"

I smiled and told Sarah, "Behave, Ryan's here too."

She looked relieved, "Thank God. Also, you have to get rid of Mack. I don't care how you do it, just get it done."

Kim finished up with the tomato and began to peel lettuce for the buffalo burgers. Then the sliding glass door opened and Charles shouted in, "Burgers are almost done!"

I peeked out the open doorway.

He still had his eyebrows, I was so proud. I nodded and surveyed the full room. Both my father's were talking with each other like they were old friends. And Sarah's grandmother came towards me.

My stepmother's mother, who was never a big fan of me.

Her glass was empty.

"Vicky, good, I was hoping you weren't busy. Do you have scotch?"

I shook my head, "No. Charles has beer and we have tea, soda, and water."

She made a face.

"Uggh…nothing, never mind, you should really be prepared if you are going to throw a party."

I did not roll my eyes, or break the glass over her head. Go me. Nor did I remind her she had not been invited, nor was it a party, just a get together.

She looked around me in the kitchen.

I guess to see if I was hiding a bottle of scotch somewhere. She spotted Kim and immediately smiled, "Hi! How are you?"

Kim smiled, "Hi Ma'am."

She walked into the kitchen an introduced herself, smiling and such.

Sarah quickly crawled between my legs, opened the door to my 'pots and pans' cabinet, and crawled in, closing the door behind her. I rolled my eyes and looked upwards.

Though she had not been spotted by her biological grandmother.

How did she even fit in there?

I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

Her grandmother then patted my arm, "Would you be a dear and go get me a couple bottles of scotch?" She walked in front of me and wrote down the exact name and brand.

Ryan magically appeared at her side.

Ryan knew how I felt about the drunken woman, how she felt about me, and she didn't like him at all. At the sight of him she excused herself and went to mingle. "Victoria…I don't want to presume anything…but have you told your father that Sarah is alive too?"

I shook my head and lowered my voice, "She told me she wanted to handle that herself."

Ryan leant closer and whispered, "They think she died in that car accident I staged."

"Are you serious," I hissed.

Ryan nodded, "Your father now thinks I'm insane, I've been talking about her like she's alive."

Not for long she wasn't going to be.

Mack made his way into the kitchen and snagged a beer from the fridge. Ryan asked, "Is she here yet?"

I kicked the cupboard by my calf.

Sarah's voice came out, "Don't judge me."


	3. Chapter 3

Oustide Fort Griffith

_Outside Fort Griffith._

_Victoria._

Sarah was dead meat.

Charles was the one who fed her, he tossed food in the cabinet to her throughout the night. I was super pissed off. I plopped down on the couch and ate many many wings. I sat right next to the wing tray, BBQ wing tray, and used the Ranch dip tray as my own. Double dipping my butt, I bought the tray, so I could dip however many times I want.

By the time the BBQ wound down it was ten.

An hour rolled by as I worked on the ice cream cake. There was a little left. I had left both the TV and music on. Sarah was none the wiser.

After an hour and a half Charles came out of Charlie's room and dropped down beside me on the couch. Kicked off his flip-flops and put his feet on the coffee table.

Looked around and then stole some of my ice cream cake, "That went well."

I nodded.

He propped his elbow up on the back of the couch, "Sarah go home with someone?"

I shook my head and pointed with the spoon, "Nope. She's still in the cupboard." He gave me an incredulous look. He grabbed two of the eight remotes from the table and turned off the TV and Stereo. Then he announced, "Sarah, party's over."

Since our vacation ended Charles was kinder to Sarah. Sure, she was still bitchy, but the two of them had developed some sort of bond.

The cupboard opened and out she fell, along with some pots and pans, plus three soda cans and a couple plates. I rubbed my temple and admonished her, "Sarah, you cannot be serious!"

She picked up the plates and tossed them in the trashcan. Then tossed the soda cans in the sink to wash and recycle. Then she headed into the living room and plopped down in Charles's lazy-boy. "Not now. I have enough to worry about, so sush."

I glared and ate more cake, "You are amazing. You have a family that loves you unconditionally and you don't want them. Unbelievable!" Charles stole some of the cake.

"Did Mack leave?"

Charles nodded, "Yeah, he just took the girls."

She sank lower in the chair, "Thank god…"

Which was another thing I was annoyed with her over. I understood she had to grieve for Armando in her own way. But seriously, "You know. If you hadn't slept with him you probably wouldn't be in this mess."

She glared.

"Or Lee, Jack, Marvin, Henry, Will, Jessica, and Juan."

She glared harder.

"Don't give me that Sarah. How many are you down to?"

She threw her hands in her lap, thinking, "I'm not dating anyone."

"How many are you sleeping with," I demanded.

"Trent."

Charles glanced over at her, the ice cream no longer holding his attention, "From B Team?"

She nodded.

"His wife left him cause he knocked her around the bedroom," Charles noted. Great, which was just what she needed. I stood and took the empty ice cream cake box into the kitchen. Sarah spoke up, "That's all I want right now. A good tumble under the sheets. Nothing else."

Charles dropped down on the couch. Saying nothing, he'd said all he needed to and told me, "Babe, don't worry about the cleaning. Come over here with me."

I grabbed a glass and shoved it in the water dispenser on the fridge door. The door in the kitchen opened, I whipped open the fridge door.

It was Mack.

So I closed it, Sarah was already out of the chair and hiding beside it.

"It's just Mack," I told her and she stood from the spot.

I sipped my water.

"It's just me. Did Lys leave her phone here?"

I scanned the mess that was my apartment. Charles laughed and Sarah plopped back down, "Call her phone." Which was a great idea, not sure why I hadn't thought of it before. So I walked back into the living room and plopped down beside Charles. Sarah looked over at us as Gwen Stefani sang from the dining room table.

"Could I crash here tonight?"

She crashed at our place a lot.

Which was fine. "Yeah…wherever you can find a place. Or in the boy's room. Drag some pillows in there." When Charles was away she'd crash in the bed with me, just like when we were children.

Mack found the pink cell phone. He made his way over to the couch, "Are there any wings left?"

Charles pointed accusingly at me, "She ate them all."

I nodded at him.

I did eat them all.

He patted my head as he left. I noticed a look from his direction toward Sarah, she kept her eyes closed. Keeping her heart closed off like she had since Armando died. Whatever she had to do to keep her sanity and keep it together.

_The next morning…_

I usually woke up when Charles did, and he did, but not because his alarm clock, or inner alarm clock woke him up. He sat straight up in bed and demanded of me, "Do you smell that?"

It had been two hours since we had gotten to bed. If it had been just an hour, I would have handled it better, but I had just gotten into a nice deep sleep. All my brain could manage was, "Did you fart?"

He shoved me and then told me, "I hear smoke alarms."

"So," I spat, trying to get back to sleep.

Charles made a noise and got out of bed, just as the bedroom door slammed and Sarah ordered, "Someone go turn that smoke alarm off. I'm trying to sleep."

Smoke alarms, again, nothing really registered.

Charles stormed out in the boxers he'd been sleeping in. Not long after Sarah dropped down on his side of the bed, in the t-shirt and shorts I'd leant her for the night. She shoved me, "I thought they kicked out the potheads last time they set off the alarm."

Oh My Lord, it was too early for this.

I rolled on my back, but never opened my eyes, "They did. There's some hundred-year-old woman next door. She probably fell asleep smoking again. Go back to sleep."

Sarah was appeased with that answer.

Not quiet for long though. Again, she shook me, "Victoria, why don't you buy a house? Then I could move into your yard."

Ok, so sleep wasn't happening anytime soon. I opened my eyes, "Because houses are expensive."

Sarah pondered that. She then asked, "What if I chip in? Then I can put the sailboat in the yard. Then we can have an investment."

Yeah right, "Sure Sarah, between your and Charles's Army Salary's and my Mommy Salary…we're just rolling in the cash." Like I always did when I was tired, I ran my fingers through my hair.

"I'm not saying we need to buy the Taj Mahal," she spat.

"Sarah, this apartment is more then fine for us. Charles and I just adopted Gabe, give us a break."

She smiled.

Then rolled onto her side to look at me, "I published a book."

I blinked, "Good. What's it about?"

"It's a biography."

Before she could further elaborate Charles came back, "The old bat was smoking again. She fell asleep in the tub this time and lit the bathmat on fire."


	4. Chapter 4

1

_Author's Note: So, this story I have decided to write about the functions in a family, and such everyday things that aren't so everyday when someone is married to someone in The Unit. Hope everyone enjoys! Share you thoughts!_

_Fort Griffith._

_Sarah._

So, I was on my lunch break at my desk. Eating my little piece of heaven when Mack stood in front of my desk. Like he was supposed to be there or something. I looked up from my meatball sub and he stole my cookie.

"What are you doing tonight?"

The hell if I knew.

I chewed thoughtfully on my Subway Creation and shrugged. "No clue, I'll probably go bother Victoria for a few hours. Why?"

He began to eat my chocolate chip cookie. Bastard. He began to ask something, but Ryan came over, holding a mug, "Sergeant, you said you had something interesting you wanted to tell me."

Dammit, I had to put my lunch down.

I wiped my face and swallowed a gulp of coke. Praying there was nothing in my teeth. "Yeah, I was listening to those tapes you gave me."

"The Russian Mob one or the Yakuza one?"

Another sip of soda.

"The mob one. Nothing really was interesting, just talk about money laundering, blackmail and killing someone named Sven. But there was a voice in the background, I have Vinny isolating it. But I am positive it's Nikolai, the head of the family in Moscow."

Both of Ryan's eyebrows rose.

Mack stole my bag of chips and sat down on a desk beside mine. I had a desk. How scary was that?

"How positive are you?"

If I hadn't been positive, I wouldn't have told him. So I added, after a sip of blessed soda, "When you had us living in St Petersburg he lived next door to us. He would baby-sit for Victoria whenever I wasn't there. Nikolai taught me how to make vodka. He'd come over every Thursday for poker, nice guy."

Ryan thoughtfully considered what I had told him.

Then he asked, "What was he saying on the tape?"

Another sip of soda, "Not much…he wants to move the organization throughout more of the US. Wants to get involved in some casino business. He did mention a trip to London…something about visiting his daughter in college."

Thoughts were occurring in Ryan's head. He tapped my desk with his fist, "Good job. I'll have more tapes sent over from them."

More tapes, why was I not surprised?

Ryan strolled off and I remembered something, "Oh! Sir!"

He turned.

"FYI, Nikolai is Charlie's Godfather." A fun little fact that surprised Ryan. Mack made a face, "What the hell were you two up to during those five years?"

"Many things," I spat, grabbing my sub to finish it.

"Sergeant!"

I looked over at Ryan who told me, "Have my daughter drop by. I want to talk to her about that."

Of course he did.

I reached for my phone and dialed the number for her cell. While waiting for it to ring I reached for my soda, which was gone, along with Mack.

The bastard took my soda.

Before I could run after him Victoria answered the phone, "Yeah?"

I was insulted. "What do you mean '_yeah_' is that any way to answer the phone? You need to learn some manners!"

She then sighed, "What is it, Sarah?"

"Ryan wants to see you ASAP. Could you bring me a Coke while you're on your way here by any chance? I'll let the front desk know you're coming and get your clearance for one thirtyish?"

Victoria again sighed, "Sarah, I'm trying to drive. Is this important?"

"Uh-huh, should I make it for two?"

"Three," she told me.

Three! "And just what are you doing? You don't work, all you do is go to school and raise your children."

Silence.

Fine, whatever, she won. "Fine Victoria, three it is." She then had the nerve to hang-up on me before I could hang-up on her. I slammed the receiver down and went back to my sub.

**Later…**

Three came and went.

Victoria, being raised by Ryan, was punctual, she was usually early wherever she went. So when three thirty came by and there was no Victoria, I became mildly concerned. Especially since I was almost done at work. My shift let up at five. And I had things to steal in the range. I had things to day after four thirty! Locks to break and boxes of bullets to take home.

At four I became more concerned.

Real concern.

So I checked my cell phone. No messages. I grabbed my phone and dialed numbers. First I called Victoria, no answer, so I left her a scolding voice message. Then I slammed the phone down and dialed more numbers on my cell. Sandy at the desk beside me stared. I ignored her and continued checking Charles's voice mail. It wasn't a violation of privacy if he was my brother-in-law.

When I heard his voice mail say, "You have thirteen new messages," my stomach knotted.

Where the hell was Charles? Why wasn't he checking his cell phone? Loser. I hit 1 to play the messages and waved to Trent. Who walked on by soaking wet…Charles was in the tank today.

Wasn't that just perfect?

A serious voice came over the phone. Message number one. "Hello, I'm trying to reach a Charles Grey, I'm Dr. Wood at the Regional Medical Center. Your was involved in a car accident this afternoon, call me back please…" And wrote down the number. I jumped from my desk and was checking message number two, whilst I headed through the "cave" to Ryan's office.

Who the hell knew which Tank Charles was in. Ryan could find him quicker then me.

Message two, three, four, and five were from the ER. Message six and seven were from the OR. Message eight, nine and eleven were from the boy's schools, message ten was from someone named Chad. Message twelve was from the towing company declaring the car was totaled. While message thirteen was from the hospital.

Which worked out great. By the time I had tracked down Ryan, I was well informed. He was talking to some blonde senator. She was always around, every time I turned around she was there. Noisy bitch. I caught his eye and pointed to my phone.

He gestured for me to come over. Which I did. Senator lady looked at me and smiled kindly, then she looked into the massive dive tank, which was behind a sheet of glass.

We were in a control room of sorts.

"Colonel, I received several messages from the hospital off base, your daughter was involved in a car accident."

There was a reaction, but he calmed himself quickly, "Was she hurt?"

No clue.

This is why I should have been on her first to call emergency list. Charles and Ryan were 1 and 2, and they were so out of the loop it was scary.

"She is out of surgery sir. The car was totaled. I'll get in touch with the hospital, but someone will have to pick up her sons from school."

Something crossed his face.

He pulled his cell phone from his chest pocket, grimaced, and told me, "Pick them up, sergeant. I'll get in touch with her husband and the hospital."


	5. Chapter 5

Regional Medical Center

_Regional Medical Center._

_Victoria._

It was late when I woke up. And I woke up in a hospital. Which freaked me out at first, since I seriously thought I was dead. I thought the massive SUV that hit me had killed me. I honesty thought I was dead. When I had seen the grill of the vehicle come through my window, the driver's window, I thought it was all over. It was time for me to meet my maker.

Waking up in the hospital was quite a surprise to me.

I actually gasped in shock and looked around. Which made Charles, who was seated in the chair beside the stretcher that I was on, jump. He jumped up and stretched. I was guessing he had been sleeping in his chair for a while.

When I moved my arm, I found the entire side of my body was stiff and sore, plus my stomach was numb.

"Baby…how do you feel? Does anything hurt?"

I blinked and tried to talk. My throat was dry, when I spoke it came out hoarse. My God! I was dying! I grabbed my throat and he assured me, "They tubed you before surgery. You'll have a sore throat for a while."

Why was I tubed? What did that mean. When I breathed I found it hurt, "Why…"

He wetted his lips with his tongue, fixed my pillow.

I peeked under my sheet and gown. There were stitches on my side. Soooo…that's what was operated on.

"The SUV that hit you…the impact…it um, it put a piece of metal in your side. They had to cut you from the car. There was a doctor two cars in front who saved your life, if he hadn't been there…" He couldn't say anything else, it was obviously too hard.

"The other driver," I managed. I wanted water for my throat, but was afraid it'd leak out somewhere.

Charles forced a smile, "Not a scratch on him. He was pulling an illegal U-Turn." He brushed a strand of hair from my face, which I found was also sore. "The air bag broke your nose and gave you two black eyes," he added.

Of course it did.

I looked around the small room. Full of monitors and expensive looking equipment. "The boys? Did someone pick them up?"

He nodded and took my hand in his. Avoiding the IV which was giving me fluids, or so I was guessing. "Sarah has them. She brought them to the boat for a while. I'll be here tonight. Ryan was here for a while, but he got paged."

So was the story of my life.

Charles handed me his water bottle.

When I tried to open it I found my wrist was in a brace. Which made it more difficult. He took the bottle from me and opened for me, then gave it back. The warm liquid hurt going down my dry throat.

The door opened and a nurse came in. She seemed surprised to see me awake. Even saying so, "Mrs. Grey, how are you feeling?"

With a non-dry throat I could talk better, "I wake up quick after anesthesia."

While she checked the monitors, my brace, my stitches, and whatever was packed in my nose; Charles ran his finger through his hair and over his neck. He was nervous, or restless. He didn't seem very comfortable.

When she finished up she announced, "I'll go call the police. They wanted to talk to you about the accident."

Oh, well I could save her the time.

"Nothing, a big white SUV appeared and hit me. That's all I remember."

She smiled, "You're a very lucky woman to survive that with little more then some broken bones."

So I was realizing.

When she left Charles scooted back closer to the stretcher. Still in his clothes he'd obviously been doing some water training today. As he wore orange swim trunks and a white wife beater. Very nice. I tried to sit up, and failed. Not because of the drugs. They wore off quickly for some reason, no, it hurt. I felt like one big bruise.

"What's wrong?"

I looked over at Charles and tried to smile, my face hurt too. "I'm sore."

He leant over the side of my bed. Tried to smile and told me, "After seeing the car, words cannot describe how relieved I am that you are _just_ sore." He then reached over and placed his hand over my stomach, softly. Which was numb so I barely felt it.

Tomorrow was really going to suck.

"How bad is the car?"

"They had to cut you out of it," Charles informed me, even sounding terrified as he looked. Which was unusual. He looked on the verge of some sort of breakdown. I was really beginning to wish I remembered what had happened. He then added, unable to keep himself contained, "The cops showed us the photo's…for investigation purposes. When I saw them…I honestly thought they were sewing you back together in surgery. I don't know how you survived. It was like before, I thought I had lost you again, but for real this time."

I ignored the pain in my arm, the one with the cast, the left one. My entire left side had taken a good amount of impact. My arm was a deep violet with bruising. But I touched his cheek. He took cast in hand and kissed my fingertips that hung out.

"I cannot loose you twice. So I'm getting you a humvee." Which was so Charles, make an emotionally vulnerable statement, and follow it up with a declaration that had nothing to do with the first. And I loved him anyway too.

Again he kissed my fingers.

So not to embarrass him, as I had heard his silent declaration, I asked, "Will you stay with me tonight?"

And he knew what I was also asking. Which I didn't know if it was a good or bad thing, us being able to finish the others sentences.

"Sarah told me she'd take care of the boys tonight. She'll drop them off at school in the morning. One of us will swing by here tomorrow afternoon."

This got my attention.

"Tomorrow? I'm not staying here tomorrow."

My declaration did not make him happy, he frowned, "You'll stay here as long as you need to."

Little did he know. I pushed myself up on my good hand, "Oh wake up! I've got too much stuff to do."

Immediately he was up, "Sweetie, you need to lay down."

"And you need to get a clue."

Again he frowned. Probably thinking I'd spent too much time around Sarah. "Victoria, please."

At that I let him help me back into the laying position. "I can handle the boys and the house hunt, and I can find a new vehicle for you. Sarah will be there to help, and so will Ryan and everyone else. You are the one irreplaceable thing in my life."

I thought about adding the boys, but in his vulnerable state, I didn't. It would have been cruel.


	6. Chapter 6

_Regional Medical Center_

_Sarah_

By four in the morning it was obvious no one on my sailboat was sleeping. So the near identical boys and I got dressed, somewhat, we put shoes on, and loaded off the dry and landed boat, up in the 'Stang' to visit Victoria.

Oddly the hospital was just as full as in the day.

We made our way to the ICU. Just where I had left her and Charles. Like the three of us, they were awake.

Charlie and Gabriel, in their boxers, tees and sneakers, spotted her and hauled ass like a pair of cheetahs. I followed in sweats from Victoria's Secret, which I had gotten out of Victoria's closet, ironic! Both boys ran into the hospital room she had to herself. Both parents seemed genuinely happy to see the boys, tired, but happy.

Charles looked like an emotional train wreck, and Victoria, looked like she'd taken on a train.

I stepped in the small hospital room, not feeling like I was interrupting a family moment, but that I was part of their small family. It gave me hope. Victoria looked at me with her black eyes, bruised nose, and equally bruised left side. Attached to a many machines.

I couldn't look at her for long.

I looked to Charles, "Have you spoken to her about playing with monster SUVs?"

He glared daggers.

"Too soon," I asked.

He nodded.

When I looked back Gabriel and Charlie were on the hospital bed. She looked to me, "Are they in their pajamas?" Both boys sat down on the end of the bed. Observing the equipment and all the needles and wires attached to their mother, whom was freaky to look at, I wasn't going to lie.

I ignored her obviously trauma induced question, "When can you leave? I want to show you some houses for rent."

More daggers came from Charles.

But Charlie and Gabriel were on my side, they also looked from their mother to father for answers. It was their father who patiently told them, "Mom was hurt very badly today, so she has to stay here a few more days to get better. Tomorrow, if she gets better, she'll go to a new room."

The boys were young, but they weren't stupid. They watched "Grey's Anatomy" with me on occasion. Which had taught me several important lessons. 1. Stretchers and hospital chairs were very uncomfortable. I was not looking forward to what was left of the night. So I left the room and walked over to the empty nurses station.

There was a small two-seated sofa against the wall.

I drug said sofa down the hall and into Victoria's room.

Charles didn't even look surprised.

I then took my rightful seat.

We stayed for the rest of the night and into the morning hours.

I had fallen asleep around five, the boys too. When I fell asleep the loving couple were talking in hushed tones, over the heads of their boys, literally.

On my sofa, I got decent rest.

The hospital could have sprung for a sofa with better padding, I'd have to write a letter to administration about that. What else was new?

I woke up to Charles throwing me on the floor. The man grabbed my arm and tossed me onto the hard tile floor. It took me a moment to register I had not fallen off, indeed Charles had thrown me off, and was pushing me across the cold floor. Before I could say anything I heard the voice of my biological father and Ryan.

Shit!

I rolled over and dove beneath Victoria's stretcher bed. Hiding, praying the damn thing wouldn't collapse and decapitate me. That would suck.

By the time I was somewhat comfortable, both men walked in the room. It was easy to pick them apart. There was a pair of legs in jeans, and the other in green camos. Both men stopped by the bed and spoke softly, so as not to wake up Charlie and Gabriel.

Naturally Ryan inquired, "How's she doing Charles?"

Victoria was sleeping, or so I was guessing. I hadn't had a chance to look in my early morning wakeup.

"Sleeping, finally. She doesn't want to stay here."

Ryan laughed, my 'father' inquired, "Who brought the boys?"

Immediately Ryan lied, "I did, last night. They wanted to see their mother."

Thank heaven's Ryan had no problem lying to people. He was the man. It was good to see Charles wouldn't let my 'father' find me out.

I looked around as the men chatted. There were a lot of springs. Very carefully I pulled my naturally golden blonde hair back, into a ballerina knot. Not one strand was getting ripped out.

After a while my 'father' announced, "I'm going to go get some decaf. You want anything Charles?"

Obviously Charles made some sort of gesture.

"All right, I'll be back."

I waited.

After a moment Ryan peered down at me, "He's gone for now."

Super! I could find a better hiding spot, where limbs wouldn't be taken off at a mere movement. Woohoo. I carefully climbed out and hopped to my feet. Neither man said anything about that, Ryan did add, "He's intending to spend most the day here."

Damn, since when was he super dad with Victoria?

I brushed dust off my newly acquired "Pink" sweat suit. "Fine, I'll head out. You want me to take the boys to school?"

Charles nodded, he began to wake the sleeping figures up. Charlie was splayed at the bottom of the stretcher. Gabriel was curled on his side against Victoria. Who looked so pitiful.

"I'll help her. I'll be right back Charles," Ryan announced, he picked up Gabriel effortlessly. While I picked up Charlie, bounced his head off the metal rail, the kid slept right through it. He got that from me. It woke Victoria up though, so I marched out, Charles immediately soothed Victoria. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, hunched over her and stroking her face, "It's ok sweetie, go back to sleep, it was nothing, ssshhhh." I watched her brown eyes blink for a moment. But she was wiped, she blinked, and then her eyes closed again.

God, I wanted to be married again so much.

But I stifled that emotion and marched to the elevator, adjusting Charlie. So eventually his head came to rest on my shoulder, and his butt rested on my crossed arms.

Ryan said nothing about my father.

When the elevator doors closed he did say, "Why don't you bring the boys to work?"

I looked over at him.

We had the elevator to ourselves, "Where do you want me to put them?"

He thought about that. "Find somewhere, I'm sure you can manage. Then call the school. Tell them their mother was in an accident and they are in no condition to attend, and get homework. Bring their books to work too."

I nodded and looked at Charlie's softly snoring face. The boys were wiped too. I glanced over at Ryan, who rocked Gabriel softly, caring for him the same way he cared for Charlie. Which was just one of the reasons I preferred him to my own biological father. How sick was that?

I never noticed till I turned eight or so, but Victoria was treated different then I was in my home. But at Ryan's house, we were both equal. He treated us like daughter, even though I most certainly was not. As I grew I began to resent my father, not because he remarried, but because he focused more on me, then Victoria.

As I grew I saw him as weak and inadequate, compared to Ryan.

Even now, I wished that Victoria's mother had me too, and then I would have been raised by Ryan. Adopted by Ryan too. Sadly, it was not to be.

The elevator doors opened to the garage.

Out we went into the early morning hours, which I always had hated. It was on my list.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: Since I have decided to write a POV from Charles. So, I have decided to do it shorter, quicker kinda. I hope that helps if it sounds or feels different, kinda what I was going for. Any input is most helpful. Thanks!**_

_Charles_

I was able to stay with Victoria most the day.

Around one Ryan paged me. So I kissed her goodbye and put fresh batteries in the TV remote, left her with a book, and off I went. Not wanting to leave her. Not wanting to go to work for the first time in my life.

It was the second time I had left the hospital since I arrived. I'd tried to leave last night when she was asleep. Off to go visit the man who'd almost run her over. A friend of mine had called from the jail.

Ryan somehow knew.

Ryan had told Jonas, who had met me by my car, and sent me back into the hospital. Saving the man's life, or at the very least his skeletal structure.

On my way out of the hospital, to the parking structure, someone called my name. I wasn't paying attention. I never noticed. Too worried was I, about my wife, my boys, work, getting the hell out of the shitty apartment, which I had signed a three year lease for…what the hell had I been thinking?

"Charles!"

I was feet from the car when someone grabbed my arm. I turned and saw a face I remembered, with a name I definitely should have known. Blue eyes, blonde hair, button nose, hot body, cute clothes…what the hell was her name. I'd slept with her more times then I could remember. She was in that five-year period without Victoria.

Her name should have come to me.

But I'd been with a lot of women in those five years. So, I used my training, and faked it. "Wow, it's been a long time, how are you?"

She beamed.

"Great! You look good, Charles, where have you been? I thought you had been relocated somewhere. You just vanished."

What was her name! I should remember it, not even when I saw the tongue ring did I remember. Which was bad. Very Bad. Especially since she had scrubs on.

But no nurses came to mind. "Been busy. Look, I have to run. I'll see you around sometime."

She nodded, smiled, and handed me a card from her pocket.

Name and phone number surrounded by hearts.

Layla.

Layla Perkins…oh, Layla, I remembered now. She'd been nothing more then a booty call. Great booty. Once I'd found Victoria, I'd never called her again. I must had forgotten about her. I'd called most the girls I'd been messing around with.

She winked and skipped into the hospital.

I finished the journey to my car.

Went to work, did four hours in the tank, working on rigging explosives in high seas, then another hour at the gym.

After that I showered and went home to an empty apartment.

Granted, it was full of things Victoria had added to make it a home. Pictures, paint, furniture, and toys. It was more a home now. It'd just been a place to keep my stuff before.

I dropped my work bag on the floor.

Hit the beeping answering machine, and grabbed a soda from the fridge. Sarah's voice came over the machine.

"Charles, if you get this you really need to learn to check the voicemail on your cell. But anywho, I dropped the boys off at Molly's. Ryan has me at the office tonight working. See you later."

I hit the delete button and grabbed an apple for dinner.

Then came Molly's voice over the machine.

"Charles, this is Molly, Jonas and I are taking the boys out to dinner. We'll be at the Pizza Hut in town. It is six now, if you'd like to join us meet us there before seven, bye."

Pizza sounded good.

My wallet was in my pocket. I was decently dressed. So I grabbed my soda and headed out, letting the answering machine continue. I even made sure to lock the door this time.

_Pizza Hut…_

Like always the Pizza Hut was busy.

I was kinda hoping the buffet would be well stocked, especially with my boys, the pizza-monsters. I spotted Jonas and Molly at a table from the front door. Then my boys up at the buffet, likely arguing over which pizza to get. They were deep in discussion.

A bunch of greasy carbs and sugary soda sounded superb.

So I snuck up on them.

Since they were my boys they easily detected my presence and seemed genuinely happy at the sight of me. Giving me hugs, then turning back to the buffet. They had a great life. Compared to Victoria and I, they were living like kings. Having both their parents, unconditional love, and a stable environment. They happily told me about their day. Grabbing pepperoni, meat lovers, sausage, and cheese pizza; avoiding the salad bar like the plague. They asked about Victoria and asked if they could camp out in the hospital with me. I said maybe, and grabbed a cheesy bread stick from the buffet.

Then I followed them to the bench table. Jonas and Molly had their own side, so I sat on the end after my boys. Who sipped their soda's and began eating the pizza's piled on their plates.

There was a BBQ Chicken pizza on the table.

Molly beamed as Jonas ate, "Charles, how is Victoria doing?"

I sipped Gabriel's soda.

Sprite.

"Better, they moved her down to Recovery. They want to keep an eye on her because she had internal injuries, not that bad, but they want to keep her at least a week."

Jonas frowned, drank whatever he was drinking, and Molly inquired, "Does she remember the accident?"

I shook my head.

Jonas then added, "A lot of people in violent accidents, or trauma victims don't remember the accident."

I smiled at him and the waitress showed up.

I ordered water and the buffet. Off she went, Molly handed Charlie a napkin and winked at my son, in a motherly way.

"Sarah sure is busy," Molly commented.

Both boys nodded, I told her, "Yeah, Ryan has her going over things. She's really good at her job."

Jonas nodded in confirmation.

Molly seemed impressed, she then pointed to the buffet, "Go get something to eat, Charles." She then turned to Jonas and asked about Sarah. Apparently she had heard much about Sarah, which was no surprise.

I listened to Molly.

My boys turned to me, asking for me to get the BBQ wings. I promised them wings and moseyed on up. Starving, like always after a dive. It had to be the cold air that made me hungry, I swore by it.

I tossed down three pieces of pepperoni, two slices of cheese, and a handful of wings.

Turned and contemplated a salad, when I bumped into Layla. Second time in that day. God was obviously pissed at me for some reason. She beamed at the sight of me.

Her plate was full of lettuce, tomatoes, croutons, and dressing. Yummy.

"Wow, what are the odds Charles! Twice in one day!"

Yeah, what were the odds?

She then told me, "I saw your sister in Recovery today."

Oh, she hadn't noticed the wedding band. And the hospital had taken Victoria's in the ER. So I had it yet again. I shifted, knowing I'd be here a moment, "Actually, Victoria?"

She nodded, "Yeah, that sounds familiar."

"She's my wife."

Her face fell like a rock. Her eyebrows rose, "S'cuse me?" She was not happy about it, obviously.

When I didn't say anything she put her hand on her hip, "When did _this _happen?"

Boy she was pissed.

"Almost two years ago."

She looked about ready to pop. When a small hand tapped my shoulder, she grew red.

"Dad…where are the wings?"

I gave Gabriel my plate.

The look she was sending him really bothered me. When I saw her face, I didn't want her anywhere near him. I knew she was doing the math in her head, Gabriel was eight. "Here, take this back to the table. I'll be right there."

Gabriel looked at her, then me, then the wings and shrugged.

"Children!" She hissed at me, making Gabriel hurry to the table. Which made me want to pop her right in the face. "You have children!"

I stepped closer to her.

Making sure she was nice and uncomfortable, "I am married and have a family now, Layla."

"We're you cheating on me!"

People were looking at us around the buffet.

It was really complicated, she wasn't getting the full story. So I told her, "I've _never_ cheated on my wife."

She was boiling at that point, she seethed, "So…so what…I was that toy you had while on break from _Victoria_!"

I wasn't sure how she'd handle the truth.

She glared at someone around me.

I peeked over my shoulder at Gabriel. Well, that would not do. I grabbed her face in my hand, forcing her to look at me, instead of my son. "I'm right here, you do not need to be so much as looking at my son."

Training and my temper took over.

She tried to move, I pinned her to the salad buffet with my leg. Glaring into her blue eyes. Before I could tell her off, a hand firmly settled on my arm.

"Charles," boomed Jonas.

I glared and let go of her, finding I had blurred the lines of work and home, due to my temper, yet again.


	8. Chapter 8

_Regional Medical Center._

_Victoria._

Sarah was perched on the chair, in her camos and black combat boots. Her blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Black boots on the end of my bed. Eating chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, she had brought me a pint too. She looked like such a professional, a soldier.

Who knew my little sister would be a soldier?

It was close to nine o'clock.

"So anyway, Trent is getting out of the Army and heading up to Langley."

Trent…there had been so many men.

I dug a piece of dough out.

"Do we like Trent," I asked, unsure of whether Trent was good or not. He was the only one she really spoke about.

With a shrug Sarah replied, "He's really good in bed."

Which was an obvious yes.

Something came to mind, "Didn't he beat up his wife?"  
She nodded, waiting a moment to finish the ice cream she was eating. Then she added. "He walked in on his wife cheating on him, with his brother. He beat his brother up first and then his wife. I'd have done the same thing myself."

Well, I didn't know that fact.

It was kinda understandable. Kinda.

I dug around the pint with the plastic spoon. Who the hell came up with plastic spoons? They were useless for ice cream. Utterly useless. "So, how many guys are you down to?"

"Trent was the last one."

Which was a good thing. "What's the plan then? Are you going on a break, or going to date anyone in particular?"

Sarah shrugged and looked around. Not sure, Sarah was not sure. She was usually so on top of things. Sarah did add, "So, I drove by that house you were talking about, the one for lease. It's nice. Full basement, garage, closed patio, private driveway, and three bedrooms. Plus there's room for my sailboat in the driveway."

"How much is the lease?"

"Four hundred a month. I'll chip in, I have to get out of the campground with my boat. Plus, I want to be around the boys and you."

Four hundred wasn't bad at all really. Our housing allowance would cover that.

It would be nice to have Sarah around again.

A noise caught our attention.

Charles was in the doorway to the room.

I beamed, "Hi sweetie."

He rubbed his neck and came in. Sleeping bag and pillow under his arm. At the sight of Sarah he made a face, "I thought Ryan was making you work late."

"He is. I'm out getting the pictures from our travels." Sarah saw the look of surprise on my face, so she added, "He wants to see the pictures from France."

Ah, Ryan was looking for someone.

Sarah did take a load of photos from that time. She documented all our travels with her camera. Charles came over on the other side of my bed. Dropped the pillow and blankets on the chair and plopped down, "Your father is in the gift shop." He then stole the ice cream from me, spoon to. Frowning when he realized it was plastic.

Her boots hit the ground and she was up. "Well I will see you two lovebirds later. Duty calls."

Off she went, ice cream in hand. Hopefully she'd escape before Dad found his way wherever he was going. Charles watched her go out. I asked, "What was he doing down there?" Someone else must have been ill or hurt, my father wouldn't make two visits in one day.

He was digging with effort, "Nothing. He wasn't there."

Charles lie to Sarah, it wasn't unheard of.

But he rarely did it anymore. So I made myself comfy in the bed and waited for whatever was bothering him, he would eventually tell me. He brought his pillows, so he must have been planning on spending the night with me. "Where are the boys?"

"Molly has them."

**A little later…**

_CSI: Miami_ was on the TV.

On the _Spike Channel_.

It was right when Horatio was about to go in the interrogation room, confront the cocky teenager, when Charles lifted his head from my pillow, looked me right in the eye, and asked; "When we were separated. Was there anyone else?"

I looked away from the brooding Horatio. Down the Charles and removed my fingers from his curls. His brown eyes waited for an answer.

Softly I replied, "No."

Charles didn't wait, "There were other women for me."

This I knew.

This was not a surprise to me.

"I know," and I began to thread my fingers through his hair again. He propped himself up on his elbow beside me. We both fit perfectly in the stretcher. "When I found you and Charlie in Belize, I came home and called them all. I told them whatever was going on was going to end. I thought I had gotten them all."

Patiently I listened like always.

And then came that familiar beep beep from his waist, where the beeper was kept at all times.


	9. Chapter 9

Aloha

_The Cave._

_Sarah._

It was late when I finished up the tape for Ryan. I was ready to go home. Get to bed, and maybe get three hours of sleep before I had to get up and pass my PT Test. Be still oh heart of mine.

I dropped my report on his desk.

Thrilled that he was off with someone else. Now I could leave. So off I went, hurrying to the elevator. I pressed the button, dug my car keys from my pocket, and some little turd in a suit came up to me.

"You need to come with me."

I looked him over.

Laughed.

And then stepped in the elevator when the doors opened. What a loser, there was nothing stopping me from getting to my beloved pillow.

The nicely dressed turd followed me.

"Sergeant, I have been given instructions to find you and bring you to the meeting room."

I pressed button 2 and leant against the wall, preventing the turd access. "Well I don't take orders from you, so sod off. And find a suit that fits, it looks like you're wearing parachute pants."

Turd was surprised.

Whether it was about the pants, or the orders, I was unsure.

The doors closed.

His mouth opened.

I held up a hand, "I'm off duty, Turd. Quiet time. No talkie." I then took the earpieces from my Ipod from my pocket, shoved them in my ears, and turned on some Leona Lewis. I needed some tunes to relax.

Turd went on his cell phone.

Halfway through "Bleeding Love" I exited the elevator, Turd closely behind. Swiped my ID on the way out and wove through the office. I waved to various people, flipped off a few others, and then I was outside in the great refreshing night air.

A mere fifty feet away, separated by a chain link fence waited the Stang. In all her glory.

A hand fell on my shoulder.

I turned and saw an armed guard. The music needed to cease for a moment. So off it went and I looked at the unnamed huge guard, "What do you want? I'm off duty till Zero Eight Hundred."

Huge guard informed me, beneath the oh-so-romantic light of the street lamp and a million bugs. "Colonel Ryan wants you now."

_Minutes Later…_

Ryan waited with another suit.

This suit was expensive, a designer suit. The owner was probably someone of importance. I really needed to behave. I would try relatively harder then usual.

"Sergeant, would you have a look at these pictures."

Since there were other people here, I did not give any attitude. There were certain times when the tude was not accepted, believe it or not.

I looked at the four photos on the table.

They were of four old men.

The other suit was dubious of something. He didn't seem thrilled to see me for some reason. Which was odd. After all, Ryan seemed rather pleased I hadn't escaped to the Stang.

Ryan then asked of me, "Do you recognize any of them?"

"No, Sir."

The attitude that I was displeased was oh-so-obvious. While I looked around the small room, I crossed my arms, my eyes fell on the clock. I hoped the suit knew he was wasting my time.

Ryan replaced the pictures.

Four new pictures of old men, "Do you recognize any of these men?"

No a one.

So I shook my head and tapped my foot.

Expensive suit man stiffened.

Once more the pictures were changed. And again, they were of four old men. However, they were four of the same old men. Different hair, contacts, facial adjustments due to surgery over the years. A progression obviously of none other then Nikolai, from next door. I had no idea what his last name was. But that wasn't important.

"It's Nikolai. Can I go home now, Sir?"

Ryan looked to the expensive suit, as if saying 'told you' with his eyes. He then told me, "Would you wait for me in my office?"

Ok.

Fine.

So, I wasn't getting any sleep. I could deal with that. We could see if everyone else could deal with that. So I glared at both suits and stormed from the room, less then a pleased little soldier.

On the way to Ryan's office, I stopped and poured myself a mug of coffee. Needing some caffeine. I then replaced five nicotine patches, and added two more for effect.

Needless to say, I was feeling good when I ended up in Ryan's office, and he was already behind his desk. Tapping away at his keyboard. When I walked in the office and closed the door, an apology for being late was on my lips. But he beat me to the punch, "Sarah, I have a job for you."

He then tossed me a passport.

I caught it with the hand not holding my coffee.

"You're sending me on vacation?"

"London."

London?

I peeked at the passport. There was my picture, but not my name. Which confused me.

"I'll have the rest of the documentation ready in a hour."

Ok.

This was news to me.  
"Are you sending me on vacation?" Which I wasn't going to oppose. Nope. I sipped my coffee and sat down at the desk. Making sure the passport people got my weight right.

It took me a second to realize it was a Canadian Passport though.

"I need you to go to London with Gerhardt and Brown to identify Nikolai. It will be at a party. You'll need to buy a dress."

Quickly, I drank the rest of my coffee. Then I informed him, "That is not in my job description."

For the first time he looked at me, "Do you even know what your job description is?"

Glorified secretary?

Which I told him and got a stern look in response.

Sure I was in the Army. I'd done the bootcamp thing and all. Ryan leant on his elbows, looking me in the eyes, "Sarah, where do you think all your translations go?"

"Here," I guessed.

Ryan shook his head, "I share the translations and your insights with the CIA, NSA, and other peoples. They send me certain things I have certain people translate. You, for instance, happen to be on of my best translators and analyst's. As such, the CIA has requested your presence on this particular project."

So I was a super glorified secretary, spiffy.

Ryan then told me, "Go to sleep in the crash room. I'll have you woken when it's time for you to go."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note: Things have been super busy here, and I hit a small bump so this chapter will be from no one's pov. I thought it'd work out well with the story. So enjoy! The chapters will still come, but I am back at school, bah!**_

_The next day._

It was near dawn when Ryan stepped into the off-base apartment of his daughter and son-in-law. He closed the door behind him and flipped the light switch. On a mission. He had no time to waste. With his grandsons at the Brown's, he was getting them some things to hold them over.

More clothing.

Shoes, toys, and bathroom supplies.

In a matter of four days or so Victoria would be discharged. With Charles away on assignment, he was in charge of the young men. Especially with Sarah being shipped across the pond to London.

Ryan had walked past the sofa. Head full and brain working as thoughts flew. When something on the floor caught his eye. He paused and took a closer look at it. Seeing three perfectly round holes in the floor.

Bullet holes.

.9mm holes to be precise.

He looked up, seeing the same holes on the ceiling.

As he stood on the coffee table and poked a pencil from his pocket through the hole, he called none other then Victoria on his cell. She answered on the fourth ring, sleepily for some reason.

"Huh," she somehow managed from her hospital bed.

Chipper as ever, Ryan demanded, "How long have the bullet holes been in your floor?"

There was a pause.

Then came, "It's five thirty in the morning."

"The bullet holes Victoria, concentrate. How long have they been there?"

He heard her groan and yawn. While he ran his eyes along the floor.

Sleepily she murmured, "The neighbors shoot celebratory shots whenever the Iraqi Soccer Team wins. There are holes all over the place Dad."

Ryan noted that was indeed true. Wondering silently if Charles could have picked a shittier place to life. "All right, I'll swing by later today. You can go back to whatever you were doing." A plan already in motion for how he would fix the problem.

"Ok," she managed and then hung up.

Ryan was already dialing another number by that time.

**Meanwhile…**

Sarah woke up to the sound of wheels hitting concrete.

Having been asleep for the past five hours, she woke up quickly, startled. She looked over at the man who was in the seat beside her. He gave her an evil look. Either jealous of her. Or perhaps mad due to her bare feet rested in his lap for the past 3 hours of the flight. It was a toss up.

She flipped open the window cover seeing a noon sun in London's Heathrow Airport. A place she'd been several times

Quickly she pulled her feet down, ignoring the swearing Brit beside her. Somewhere else on the place was Mack and Bob.

Sarah was not concerned with them.

She had specific instructions, as did they. Get to the address. She had it memorized. As soon as she hailed a cab, and dropped by Harrods, she was so going to that address.

Once the plane landed Sarah plugged in her Ipod earplugs. Ignored everyone as they were driven off the plane. She bopped along to Hinder and NIN. Breezed through customs with the passport Ryan had given her. Once or twice she spotted Mack and Bob.

Bob dressed as a reverend and Mack as a businessman. Looking quite spiffy in his suit.

Having not checked anything Sarah made it outside, where someone bumped into her rather roughly, almost sending her into the flow of traffic.

Naturally she whipped around, backpack in her hand, ready to take someone's head off with it. She noticed Mack watching from a distance. But he wasn't the man who'd shoved her. She recognized the man who had shoved her. She let out a happy scream and jumped into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his slim waist and hugged him.

She hugged none other then Nikolai's son Dimitri.


	11. Chapter 11

**Three days later.**

**Victoria.**

Kim and I were seated at the loudest possible restaurant in town. We were at the Chuckie Cheese with our offspring. Her daughter and my sons got along like no one's business. So while they played game after game, I gingerly ate what passed for pizza and helped Kim with her homework.

Somehow we got sidetracked.

Her Texas accent was really distracting. "…and you really like the house? Even though it's off base?"

From what I had seen of the house it was great. Tomorrow, after my doctor appointment, Molly was taking me to the rental property for a guided tour. So we would see how that went. "I really do. There is room for more kids and Sarah's boat."

She smiled and eyed her pizza.

The sounds of screaming children and video games, paired with running and the smells of bad Italian food was epic. To think we could have made sandwiches and gone to the park. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Pain laced up my side and I about lost the little bit of pizza I managed to eat.

"Can you hold down the fort? I need to go check my stitches."

Naturally she nodded, "Of course, they'll be fine. They've moved onto a shootin game. Are you ok?"

With a nod I stood, boy those were tight stitches. "Fine, I want to check on the stitching."

What I meant to say was I was going to pull them out.

With Ryan raising me, I always had a knife and Leatherman in my purse. I would have made a bitchin boy scout. So I fought my way through the horde of sugared up unsupervised children. Finally finding the ladies room. Along with a pile of pizza looking vomit on the floor. Beautiful, there went my appetite.

Once inside I slapped my purse on the counter.

Lifted up the huge sweatshirt Dad had brought me. There in my side were a line of stitches. I pinned the ARMY sweatshirt beneath my chin and dug through my purse, just as a stall door opened.

In walked none other then a hospital nurse.

Damn! I withdrew my hand as she eyed me.

She looked somewhat familiar. But, since I had spent a week in the dreadful place, all faces were looking vaguely familiar.

Ignoring the stitches she pointed, "You're Charles Grey's wife?"

My sweatshirt fell.

Every little intruder alarm Ryan had put in my head went off. This woman knew quite a bit and we had never formally been introduced. My spidey sense went off noisily. "And you are?"

Looking me over, as if she weren't impressed, she informed me, "I'm his girlfriend."

Both my eyebrows probably hit my scalp, "What?"

"He didn't tell you about me? I was with him last night."

**Later that hour…**

With dad having packed up all our belongings and moved us out of the apartment, he'd moved us in with him until I found a new place. And that was the least of my worries.

I'd left Kim with the kids and went home.

God only knew how many traffic laws I had broken on my way. Curbs I'd driven over, stop signs I'd yielded at. In the Humvee Charles had gotten me parking was no longer an issue. I parked wherever I wanted to park.

I'd turned the ten miles trip into five minutes and thirty-nine seconds. When I parked in the driveway and slammed the door, I'm sure Ryan heard. But I slammed the front door of the house for good measure.

Before Ryan appeared I was already screeching for him. "Dad! Dad! Where are you!"

The tight stitches in my side long forgotten. I'd get to them later. I had a much bigger fish to fry. And that fish's name was Layla.

Dad appeared from his study. Both confused and worried at the same time. Before he could vocalize that I threw my purse on the hall table. "Where the hell is Charles?"

Confusion continued, "Victoria, you know I can't tell you that."

Well he was going to tell me something! "Where was he last night? Some woman just told me he was with her, so I need to know whether or not this female is screwing around with Charles, and I need to know right now."

Some of the confusion cleared from his face.

It was replaced with concern though. He pointed toward the living room. Immediately my hand flew up, "I'm not sitting till you tell me something. I'm not asking for his exact land coordinates. I'm not asking you to break security. I am asking you to tell me if my husband is being unfaithful."

Realizing I wasn't budging, Ryan clicked the pen in his hand, "Charles is not being unfaithful. Nor is he even in this country, nor has he been since he was paged."

"Then who is Layla?"

Again, he motioned to the living room. Again I made the hand gesture, "Dad, who is she?"

I knew he kept track of his men. He would know who she was if she was someone worth worrying over.

Softly he told me, "She is most likely someone he had relations with while you were abroad. He has not strayed once since finding you Victoria, and I would tell you if that ever changes."

Somewhat happy, I began to tap my foot.

Layla was a lying bitch then. I should have slapped her when I had the chance. I took a breath and felt the pressure on my side, and my nose still ached. So I headed towards the bathroom down the hall. Dad grabbed my arm gently, "You should sit down. Where are you going?"

"To take my stitches out," I informed.

"Oh you most certainly are not," he wheeled me around firmly and led me into the spacious living room. "Where are the boys?"

He plopped me down on his overstuffed sofa. It was a grand sofa. He threw the throw over me, and handed me the TV remote.

"At Chuckie Cheese with Kim."

He put the pen in hand in his pocket, "I'll go get them then. Where are the keys to your car?"

Right, "You just want to drive the Humvee," I accused, handing him the keys I had to dig out of my pocket.

I tossed him the keys.

"Guilty," he admitted.

Then fatherly, he kissed my forehead and headed out of the room. I shouted after him, "Pick me up a Frosty!"

I heard the front door close, and then the Humvee start up. After that I turned the TV on and reached around under the couch. While the History Channel came on, showing the Salem Witch Trails, promising: I reached under the sofa.

Ignoring the two handguns and ammo box, I eventually found a K-Bar knife. Which I used to dismantle my stitches with ease.


	12. Chapter 12

**Meanwhile.**

**London.**

**Mack.**

From across the street we had a beautiful view of the party. We had a beautiful view of Sarah and everyone she was greeting. And there had been many she greeted in her dress, which she filled out more then nicely. Greatly Fuckable came to mind.

"Do you realize about eighty percent of the people she has greeted are on Interpol's watch list?"

"Hater," I accused Bob of, from right beside him.

I had the gun and he had the binoculars.

We each had a window.

"Doesn't that bother you? The current woman you're shacking up with is friend's with mobsters?" Again, he asked, somehow becoming the moral compass whenever I was around him.

Ignoring that, I watched her embrace and kiss some guy. Not the old man I was supposed to help expire. They kissed each other on the cheek, seeming genuinely happy to see one another. I ignored the urge to put a hole in this guy's head too. It had been a common feeling for the past hour.

Once she gave the signal, I'd kill the old mobster. Completely disable the head of the Russian Mob in London for a few weeks. Until they found their new headman. But this one had to go. Now, according to Ryan.

Sarah moved on from the one she'd been so thrilled to see. Grabbed her second glass of what appeared to be champagne from a waiter with tray. She began sipping and looking around the room. Appearing to be bored. It was working. She looked like that moody bitch at a party, the one guys were too scared to approach.

It had been perfected over many years.

Bob stiffened, "Someone is approaching her. This may be him."

Then Sarah made a face.

She thrust her hand out, as well as her hip. Apparently not pleased to be seeing this person. With a jerk of her hand he retreated. Obviously scared of the knockout blonde in the great dress, with killer heels.

"Guess not, Bub," I smirked.

Sighing, Bob checked his watch.

I was fine. Laid out on the floor with the rifle on a tripod. We were good to go. I could stay down for hours. But if we killed this guy within two hours, we could catch a flight from Heathrow to JFK, tonight. That sounded appealing. Once we killed Nikolai, the shit would literally hit the fan. Not only with the London Police, but the Russians.

Sarah sipped her drink. Continuing to look bored. When she finished it she even began to examine the glass. Appearing to look at the bottom of it. She then put it in her purse with the other wine glass, and a figurine she'd spotted on a table. God only knew what else she had in that purse.

While doing this, a short fat man waddled over to her. My heart sped up.

Who was he?

Would she get in trouble for thieving?

She closed her purse and resumed the position of boredom, then a smile broke out over her face.

"This may be him," Bob murmured.

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. The old man hugged her back. And then she kissed the top of his baldhead.

That was it.

That was her signal that he was Nikolai.

Then like I told her she stepped to the side, still talking and smiling. Completely at ease with the old man, who was also perfectly calm. There was not a trace of fear or unease on her face. She trusted me not to shoot her, and I wasn't about to let her down.

I lined the shot up. Accounted for the slight breeze, the angle, and the pane of glass on their building. Then I fired. The weapon recoiled back and bumped my shoulder.

By the time the weapon was still and I looked through the scope, Bob reported, "Target down. Good shot."

Blood was speckled all over Sarah's face. She was calm for a second. Then she took a breath and began to scream, pointing dramatically at the floor by her feet. I didn't see the rest, I began to break down my weapon, and put it away.

"And she is making her way through the crowd…and she's out of the room." Bob reported, never moving.

I had half the weapon broken down, and then he reported, "She's in the stairwell. She's cleaning her face with a cloth from her purse…and she's back in the building."

While Bob continued to watch, I had it all broken down and was packing. Having it put away perfectly in a few seconds over a minute.

When I closed and locked the case, Bob reported, "She's on the street in jeans and a black shirt. She's still getting dressed…and has a shopping bag in hand. The dress must be in there."

"Fantastic, lets go." I declared, this was beautiful, like clockwork.

**Much much later..**

In the early morning hours we landed in JFK, where we got a connecting flight into DC and then to some small God-Forsaken airfield not far from base. So by the time we had made it back and turned in our reports, we were a little tired. That whole time zone thing was annoying.

I wasn't exactly in the best mood perk wise, but Sarah was wired. It might have had something to do with her four Red Bulls DC, and four more on the car ride back to base, paired with her eight fresh Nicotine patches, and the 32oz jug of Mountain Dew in hand, that she had refilled twice.

I was guessing she was planning on working the day.

By the time we found Ryan she was back in camos, and ready for action. Ryan took one look at her and asked, "Are you on Speed?"

Sarah popped her gum, her Nicoderm gum, she had probably four pieces in her mouth, "No. I had like, eight Red Bulls on the flight. I'm going to my desk." She handed him the file, turned on her boot, and off she went.

Without a word Bob handed Ryan his report, and headed for the showers. Stiff from his flight, crammed between two plus sized women, Both of which had major gas and wanted to talk to him for the flight.

Bob was not happy when we landed.

I handed Ryan my report.

I was hitting the gym first.

Ryan opened the folders one by one, "How'd she do?"

The sound of her sipping her empty soft drink emanated down the hall. "She did fine, Sir."

Ryan did a double take at Sarah's report, so I glanced down and saw why. She had used a purple glitter gel pen to write up her report. Wasn't that just precious.


	13. Chapter 13

**Meanwhile.**

**Victoria.**

For the twenty-second time in three hours the cell phone in my back pocket began to sing. "Papa don't preach" by Madonna. And for the twenty-first time I checked it and chose not to answer the call, sending it to voicemail, where I had twenty-one new messages from this Layla.

I was in no mood to answer the phone.

She wouldn't talk to me when I answered. I could listen to her breathing, and eventually I'd hang up. But when I let it go through to voicemail she'd leave me messages. Apparently not only was I a slut, I ruined her life and stole Charles from her. She went on and on, until the recording cut her off.

This had been going on since we met in Chuckie Cheese. Day and night, and it was getting old.

But, God forbid I turn the phone off and Dad try and call, or Sarah, then I'd never hear the end of it.

Kim dropped a box of toys on the floor, "Good Lord, who keeps calling you?"

I hit the decline call button.

Thus sending the call to voicemail, and then I went back to my moving boxes that Jonas had carried in the new place for us. He had left with Molly to pick up lunch. He'd be back, he had furniture to carry for me. But apparently he needed to get Mack to help, and that needed to wait for the lunch break.

"That Layla girl. She's been calling day and night, I can't change the number till Charles gets back, God forbid he try and call and be unable to reach me." And who knew when he was getting back.

Her voice trailed down the hall, where she headed with the box, while kicking another with her foot. "Have you talked to Ryan about her?"

"Kinda," I answered.

Then looked at the pile in the living room, all were marked and taped up. I grabbed one-labeled _**dishes **_ and almost dropped it. Jonas or Mack would have to move that one. Apparently they had packed all my dishes in one box. Bless his heart.

I went to the next box. Labeled _**Charles/Victoria Bedroom**_, picked it up, and was able to carry it down the hall.

Passing Kim in the process, "What do you mean kinda?"

I headed in the empty bedroom. "I asked Dad if Charles was cheating, you know, still seeing this skank. He's not Dad assured me. But he's got a lot to worry about. I'm not going to bother him with some "Fatal Attraction" wannabe."

Kim made a face.

We had seen the movie in our abnormal psych class.

Dropping the box in the corner with the others, I headed out and followed her down the unadorned hall. Her two young ones were sleeping in their portable car seats. Otherwise, I'm sure the infants would have been helping.

"Charles wouldn't cheat on you."

Yeah, I knew that, but I had to cover all my bases though. Just to be 100 sure.

We came to the pile'o'boxes as the front door opened.

In strolled Sarah and Mack, arguing, like always.

"…never seen a driver as bad as you. I can't believe you still have a license still!"

Sarah rolled her eyes and looked around the box filled house. "Hey baby. I'm back. Ignore him, he's not gotten much sleep."

She looked wired.

I hugged her and noticed the state of her pupils, "Are you on Speed?"

Sarah laughed.

Mack made a face, "She's had thirteen Red Bull's so far."

Rolling her eyes, she popped her Nicotine Gum. "Is this the box pile?" Gesturing to the pile of boxes.

While Kim pointed out the boxes we couldn't lift to Mack. And pointed out all the room's were labeled. Sarah listened to the instructions, and I added, "Jonas and Molly will be back soon."

"When can I bring my sailboat over?"

I gave Sarah a look, "Don't you like living a whole five minutes away? You'll get privacy and still be close enough to run."

She gave me this look of complete disbelief. Then laughed, "So, Friday good then?" And off she went to go look around the house I had rented that morning. It was a grand house. Private driveway and pond with four other rental's within sight.

My cell phone rang again.

I gave it to Sarah, "It's for you."

Confused she took it, but answered it anyway, and down the hall she went. "Sarah Wilkes here…hello…I can hear you breathing you loser…oh so you want to be like that you…" as she vanished into one of the bedroom's her voice vanished. The call would be over soon. Sarah's phone skills were legendary.

While Mack carried the dishes box into the open kitchen that connected to the living room, where we and the boxes were, Kim inquired, "Mack?"

"Yes," his husky voice answered.

"Do you remember a girl named Layla, Charles dated her?"

Mack came out, ready for another box. Thinking too. "Blonde and big boobed? She worked in a hospital?"

Kim looked to me.

"Uh-huh, what do you know about her offhand?"

Mack grabbed another box for the kitchen, one that held all my pots and pans. Jonas, aka Hercules, was so helpful.

With a shrug he headed in the kitchen, "She was a hookup for him when he was home. He didn't take her seriously. She's a husband hunter, I believe, Charles mentioned something like that. Why?"

Sarah exited the bedroom, heading into the bathroom, nosing around. I caught a bit of her sentence, "…don't know who you are bitch, but let me tell you how this…"

Legendary, were her telephone manners.

Looking over the boxes, Kim casually asked, "So Charles broke up with her?"

Mack laughed.

My heart sank.

When he saw my face he quickly corrected himself, "I didn't mean it like that. Of course he broke up with her…but, well, Victoria there were many women before you and when you were gone. He hooked up with this one and as soon as he found out you and Charlie were ok, he broke it off with them. He may have missed one or two. But not intentionally…there were a lot of women. Charles would never cheat on you. Why are you asking?"

Then Sarah came out of the bathroom, still on the phone. She headed towards the boys' room. "Well let me tell you, Layla, you have no idea who're you're dealing with! I am Sarah and if you even call this number again, I'll so hunt you're skanky ass down! Don't you dare hang up…that _bitch_." Then I heard Sarah dialing numbers.

I guess Layla hung up on her. Which was offensive to Sarah, she'd call her right back to finish her sentence.

Mack pieced it together, "Have you told Ryan about her?"

Kim shot me a look. Not just any look. _The Look_.


	14. Chapter 14

**That afternoon.**

**Sarah.**

Inch by inch I moved forward in the line of cars to pick up the boys.

Charlie and Gabriel.

My nephews. With Victoria at home with Kim still unpacking, all but moved in. I had volunteered to pick up said boys. Which made sense. I was going past their school anyway. And I had been sent home early.

I was getting another promotion.

Now I would be in Ryan's Command Center. Damn me and my knack for languages and patterns. He'd sent my home to sleep. Telling me I'd need to sleep off the Red Bull's.

Which still were buzzing through my system.

It was so not my fault though.

Nor was it a problem.

Infact, I was so buzzed I noticed both my nephews on the corner, outside their school, talking with some blonde woman. They seemed upset. This got my attention. But the Stang was six cars behind in the line from them.

When they followed said woman down the sidewalk, I hopped my camo-clad ass out of the Stang. After turning her off and locking her. Flipping off the guy honking behind me, I hurried along the line of waiting cars.

Seeing Charlie and Gabriel following this woman to her car.

A red Pontiac.

Parked in the school parking lot.

Immediately I memorized the plate.

When they climbed in the backseat of the car I picked up the speed. My black boots hit the hot pavement and I was super glad I had taken up running. I ran past Mack's truck. He was in line to pick up his girls. It was his week to get them.

Into the parking lot I sprinted.

When I came up to the Pontiac as the woman climbed in, just shutting the door. I grabbed it right before it closed. Ripping the door open, she looked up in mild surprise to put it lightly.

On her shirt across her boobs was her name airbrushed, right above a unicorn.

Layla.

We had spoken earlier on the phone.

Since her car was on and she wasn't buckled in, I grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her from the vehicle.

The Red Bull's had given me kick-ass strength.

She was screaming and all. But stopped when my knee connected with her stomach, twice. Still holding her hair, which was a little too full of hairspray, I yelled at Gabriel and Charlie, "Get your asses out of this car right now!"

They moved like there was a tornado coming.

Layla began to complain about her breathing, or something. I tightened my grip on her hair. Then got her down on the concrete. Damn I was good, I so excelled at combatives. Once on the ground she began to complain that it was hot.

Both boys were on the sidewalk.

Guilt etched on their faces.

Mack happened to stroll on over. I pointed to Layla, "Watch her." Then I climbed in her car and grabbed her purse.

There was investigation to do.

She was still whining about the hot concrete, her ribs, and her head hurting. What a wuse.

She didn't know the first thing about pain.

In a matter of seconds I had all the contents of her purse dumped out. I grabbed her wallet, opened it, and took her license. For background checking purposes. I then took her cell phone and her car keys out of the ignition. Upon crawling out I pocketed her ID. Threw her car keys out onto the main highway, and dropped her phone on the ground.

The combat boots on my feet helped when I jumped on said phone, it broke into many pieces.

Mack hadn't said a word to her, nor had he let her move.

So I knelt down, grabbed her hair and made her look up at me. I made sure to smile, rudeness was unacceptable. "I'm Sarah, we spoke on the phone earlier, you may not remember being a skank and all. But, those boys over there are my nephews, and if I catch you anywhere near them, I'll kill you. Personally, I think I should kill you now, but there are _way _ too many witnesses. Soooo…consider this you're warning."

She was glaring at me.

Boy she was pissed!

So I added, "And that purse, it's so not even a good quality Coach replica."

**Later…**

I marched in the house, night bag over my shoulder.

Gabriel and Charlie ran ahead of me.

Off to their room.

They were all excited about the new house.

Dropping the bag, I headed into the kitchen. Smells of spaghetti filled the house. "I'm going to crash on the couch for a few. Wake me for dinner. I think the Red Bull's are wearing off."

Victoria smiled.

Her kitchen was a mess.

There was stuff everywhere. But the smells were good.

"Any problem's with the boys?"

Nope, we had our discussion about strangers and cars. But that was important information. So I handed Victoria the driver's license. After wiping her hands n a dishtowel, she took it, her eyes widened in shock. "Where did you get this?"  
Casually, I reported, "She tried to pick up the boys. I stopped her, don't worry."

Then I backed out.

I was getting a little sleepy.


	15. Chapter 15

Sarah was passed out like a dead person on the couch, and had been for the past six hours

_Author's Note: This will be yet another non-POW chapter. Hope you enjoy!_

**Meanwhile.**

Lissy dropped down on the chair beside the couch, where he father and younger sister were watching TV. America's Funniest Home Video's. She had the latest Stephanie Meyer book in hand.

While he younger sister laughed at a cat in a swimming pool, Lissy inquired, "Where's Sarah?"

Mack glanced over, "What?"

Lissy tucked her legs beneath her, "Sarah. She was over last time. Remember?"

Slowly Mack nodded.

He remembered all too well.

Slowly, methodically he sipped his tea and put the glass on the corner table. "She's with her sister tonight. They're painting Victoria's new house."

Lissy thought.

She chewed her top lip, "Victoria…that's Charles's girlfriend…right?"

"You got it."

Lissy thought back.

She remembered when Sarah was over. Mack had gotten called in and Sarah hadn't called her Mom. In fact, Sarah let her stay in the apartment. She didn't send her of Jenny home.

Sarah hadn't treated her like some sort of leper. More like a younger sister.

Turning towards the TV.

But not his attention, Mack inquired, "You like Sarah?"

"Yeah, she's cool. Does Victoria need help painting?"

A smile curled over Mack's face, "Not on a school night, Lis."


	16. Chapter 16

How are you

**Two days later.**

**Sarah.**

So there I was with Lissy in the PX.

Mack was unable to deal with the chaos. It was far too tragic for him to deal with, very bad. So he gave me a twenty and told me to take care of the matter.

"So, what's the different between regular and extra long?"

I looked to dear Lissy.

Who had just gotten her period. "You don't want extra long. They are like this long, compared to this long. Wasted space, and they're like really uncomfortable."

She nodded, accepting my knowledge. "What brand should I get?"

That was a very good question.

We had settled on pads.

After all, it was her first period. And tampons were a motherly thing to explain. "I prefer Stayfree, just because they have wings, and are a little more padded. I'm a heavy flow girl. You have one of mine now. If you want a thinner one go for the Always."

Lissy thought about it.

This was indeed a serious decision.

But we didn't have all day. She had to get back to school and I to work, and the lunch break wouldn't last forever.

"What about Kotex?"

Oh God no, "Ick. I can't wear them…they move too much for me."

She grabbed the blue plastic package.

Stayfree.

Then I took it, "How are the cramps. Do we need Midol?"

She shook her head, "Not bad at all."

Bitch.

She did add, "I could go for some chocolate though."

Atta girl!

I wrapped my camo-clad arm around her neck and pulled her close. "As it should be. And remember, you can eat whatever you want on your period. And do whatever you want. It's a legal defense you know."

We strolled out of the aisle and towards checkout, where the chocolate was kept, when we bumped, literally, into Molly Blaine.

She smiled at the sight of Lissy.

We did the whole small talk thing, while I kept checking my watch. We had twenty-eight minutes.

Molly noticed the blue package, "Lissy, did you call your mom?"

"No."

Lissy's answer caught my attention. It was the quickness of her answer. I scrutinized her with my eyes. Molly cocked an eyebrow and Lissy added, "This isn't a big deal. It's just a period."

Molly looked to me.

I had no idea what sort of subliminal message she was sending my way. I didn't hang around her enough to know. So I declared, "I have to run Molly. We'll be late."

Master of subtlety, Molly smiled and gave Lissy a hug.

**minutes and four broken traffic laws later…**

Not having the time or patience to dissect a thirteen-year-old girl, I asked Lissy flat out, on the way to her school, "Why aren't we calling your mother?" Whatever her mother was named. It was something girly, fluffy.

Lissy sighed and sank down in her seat, shotgun.

I took a corner a little fast, tires squealed.

Very exciting. She didn't even hang on for dear life. She was used to Mack's driving. Good girl.

Quietly, while Faith Hill came from the speakers, she told me. "I'm tired of them fighting over everything."

Completely understandable.

While steering around cones in a school zone, I reached over and patted her hand. She gave me a smile. The same smile Victoria gave me whenever she talked about her biological parents. That smile twinged with a slight bit of inner sadness, repressed sadness.

That sad little smile that accepted the crappy situation.


	17. Chapter 17

**That night.**

**Charles.**

It was pretty late when I eventually found the house.

I'd gotten back just as the night shift was coming in. I defunked and found a new key and address in an envelope, taped to my locker. All in Ryan's handwriting.

Victoria had found a new place and moved.

God, she was amazing.

When I changed, put the key on my key ring, and found my cell phone in the locker, I found I had a full message box. Which made me panic. What if something bad had happened.

When I checked the messages, all but two were from Layla. That really bothered me.

I shoved the phone in my pocket and headed out.

After a solid twenty minutes I found the house.

It didn't take long to find the land. But there were six houses on the land, and it was dark out. So by the time I found the humvee, and used the key, the house was silent and empty.

I used my flashlight.

The sound of Sarah snoring from the couch told me not to turn lights on, she was a bear when woken up.

Softly, I put my duffel down and locked the door, and deadbolt.

A distinct sound caught my attention in the darkness of the house. Sure, the huge picture windows around let in moonlight. But the torch was still needed. I shone it down the hall.

There was a dog the size of a pony in the hall.

A deformed dog.

A moment later Victoria hurried from a room, baseball bat in hand. She shone a flashlight at me and relief filled her face.

Apparently something was going on.

She patted the dog on the head, set the bat down, and hurried down the hall. I met her halfway, at the end of the hall, and wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly. As tightly as the stitches in my wrist would allow. Which she immediately noticed and grabbed my bandaged appendage.

"It's fine baby. When did we get a horse?"  
Confused, she didn't let go of my arm, "Lola?"

Lola?

I shone the flashlight at Lola, a good-sized Rott. She watched me from the floor. "I'll tell you later baby. Did you eat?"

That was enough conversation for now.

With the gentle sound of Sarah snoring and Lola watching, I pulled her in for a good solid kiss, and then another and another. Up until we christened the dark hall with Lola watching and Sarah snoring. After which we went to the half unpacked bedroom and christened the bedroom.

Just like in the early days, we never went to sleep. We stayed in the bed and spoke in whispers, the covers acting as a tent.

We talked about the humvee.

We talked about the new house.

We talked about Layla.

We talked about all of Layla's calling and her visit to their school.

We talked about Victoria wanting to study literature and go to work as a writer.

We talked about ways to make sure Sarah didn't bringing her sailboat over.

We talked about Charlie and Gabriel.

Eventually, the sky began to lighten and Lola crept in the bedroom. She eyed me suspiciously, and walked around the bed. Her nails clinked on the floor. I heard her lay down on the floor, over on Victoria's side of the bed.

"Where'd she come from," I asked her, on my side where I could get an eyeful. Play with her hair and kiss her when I wanted.

From her back she played with dressing on my wrist. "I wanted a dog around the house. Plus she needed a home. She's a rehabilitated fighting dog from that NFL Player's ring."

This got my attention, "You brought a fighting dog here?"

With the children?

Victoria made a face, "She's been rehabilitated and she has no teeth. She's terrified of men anyway. I just wanted a dog to let me know if someone is in the house."

Great, we had a toothless skittish guard dog.

But something else caught my attention, "Has someone been hanging around here?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm just being safe, you know, with the whole Layla situation." With a small smile she added, "The boys really like having her around."

I peeked over the side of the bed at her, she watched me closely.

"Apparently, they take the teeth out to breed them easier," Victoria informed me.

She caught my face between her hands and kissed me.

When she kissed me like that, a toothless guard dog sounded like a great investment. I crawled on top of her and pain shot through my wrist. Which made me slow. She took the bandaged appendage and put it above her head, softly telling me against my lips, "We can always tie it behind your head."

I could get into that.

Her nimble fingers slowly made their way down my side.

Lola began to whine.

"It's ok, she's really into this," I assured the dog. Which made Victoria laugh and kiss me again. The sight of her and her tattoos was such a turn on. Who knew tattoos were such a turn on. Not till Victoria. I kissed the little Latin prayer tattooed on her shoulder, and then we christened the new bedroom once again.

**6:30 that morning…**

The smell of bacon wafted through the house.

Which was a nice place.

There was a huge basement. The upstairs had two nice sized bedrooms, a huge open area that had a living room / dining room / and kitchen. With a screened in front porch.

Sure there were boxes everywhere, most of which were half unpacked. A lot of the house was set up. The pictures were up and the furniture arranged.

At the large picnic style kitchen table were Sarah and the boys, all eating bacon. They gave the eggs to Lola.

Lola couldn't eat bacon, she had no teeth.

"…how long will you be home? Did your seminar go good?"

Seminar was what Victoria had told Gabriel and Charlie. A good idea, we needed to get creative as time went on. At least until the boys were older. While chewing on my bacon and eggs, I spoke, getting a glare from Sarah. "Wonderful son, we learned about a new copier. All the clerks went."

Victoria pushed me out of the way.

Sure there was enough room to go and sit at the table, but Victoria wasn't over there. She was making lunches for the boys. Both of which were decked out and ready for school. Wearing near identical camo to Sarah, minus the boots.

Charlie dropped an egg on Lola's head, and reached over to Sarah's bacon. She smacked his hand and waved her finger. Since he was my son he giggled, then came into the open kitchen, mere feet away, for more bacon. Victoria kissed the top of his head as someone knocked on the door.

Thus causing Sarah to leap from the seat, "It might be Layla!" She seemed eager for a confrontation.

Charlie looked to Victoria, "The lady from the school?"

Gabriel stole bacon from Sarah's plate and Victoria nodded, "Yes Charlie. Gabe, do you want more bacon?"

It was not Layla at the door.

When Sarah opened the door it was just Ryan, and two uniformed police officers.


	18. Chapter 18

Sarah

**Charles.**

**That afternoon.**

For lunch, Mack and I swung by the off base Sharky's Bar and Grill, after calling in our orders of ribs. They had the best ribs and baked potato. I could live off their ribs. The sauce was a perfect sweet and tangy mix. I even brought Victoria there on our first date. If a girl could appreciate good ribs, then she was the girl for me. And Victoria appreciated good ribs. She was a keeper. But I knew that from the first minute I had laid eyes on her, at the airport in Mexico when we changed our planes.

"Hey, isn't that your father-in-law over there?"

Mack motioned towards the man at the bar. The one drowning his sorrows in his beer. Sure enough, as I looked at the man through the smoky haze of Sharky's, from our spot in line, I determined it was indeed Victoria's biological father. He seemed distraught.

I gave Mack a ten, "Don't leave without me."

Since we were number nine in the line, and it was the middle of the lunch rush, I probably had time.

Not that I particularly wanted to even speak to the man on a good day. There was something about a guy abandoning his child for his new family. Abandoning a daughter when she lost her mother, then treating her like a leper. There was something inherently wrong with that picture.

Over I went, through the smoky sports bar and grill.

I was so going to smell like an ashtray.

When I got to the empty stool beside him, I patted his shoulder, "Everything ok?"

The bearded man looked up at me with a face of horror.

Shit, this could take longer then ten minutes.

I shook my head to the bartender and asked him, "Do you need me to call your wife? A cab?"

Choked with tears, he stated, "Victoria doesn't see me as a father, does she?"

Damn.

I didn't want to have this conversation, especially with him.

Then he added, "Doug saw Victoria picking Sarah up at the jail, with Colonel Ryan. I went and spoke with Victoria later…she doesn't love me, does she?"

Why did I have to have this conversation with him? I could hardly stand the man. And I was so not the grief counselor. I looked over to Mack, who waved and smiled. Some help he was.

"Are you sure it was Sarah," maybe I could distract him?

He nodded.

Sipped his sixth beer.

And then added, "Victoria called me Robert. She called me Robert. Why didn't she call me Dad?"

Why was he still able to think and talk? I knew the man had a tolerance, but this was insane. "Robert, I think you're drunk. Let's get you in a cab. Have you called the Mrs.'s?"

Again, he asked, "She doesn't think of me as her father, does she?"

Pretty annoyed with the drunken man, I leant against the bar and rubbed the back of my neck. "No. Not really."

He looked back to his beer, which was about empty. "It's because of her stepmother isn't it?"

Here was not the place I wanted to discuss this with him. I'd rather not at all. But he was all mopey and Mack hadn't made any progress in line. So I shook my head, "No. She doesn't mind her. I personally think the woman is an idiot. Victoria on the other hand, pretty much was taken in and raised by Ryan when you picked the second wife over her mother and stayed when her mom died and you didn't so much as offer for her to visit you, I'm sure it affects a child."

Personally, I thought he was a fucking idiot.

Sure, I could see where he was coming from. Leaving wife #1 for wife #2, I'd done that before, minus the women being wives. But picking wife #2 over a child from wife #1 to make wife #2 happy, that was just obscene. Yet it happened all the time.

"She must know I love her," he muttered more to himself then anything.

I just had to answer.

Not because I gave a shit about his feelings, but I was bored, and pretty much wanted to tell him off for years. Ever since Victoria had shared her family history with me. Loosing our mother's was something we shared in common. And we both found new families.

"Sure, she know's you love her in that sperm donor sort of way. But Ryan raised her and provided a home and fatherly love. You just sort of made her and left. But I'm sure the annual Christmas cards and Birthday cards more then made up for abandoning her though."

He squinted at me.

He was too wasted to know I was insulting him. Which was just amazing. I then motioned for the bartender for the tab.

"I don't like you very much," Robert announced.

Eight beers and six shots of scotch were on the tab. Damn, he was really bummed about this. "Yeah, well, I'm not really fond of you either."

The bartender took the empty beers from him. "He called his daughter, but she refused to pick him up."

I grabbed Robert's wallet. There was no way I was paying for his drunken spree. "Which one?"  
"Victoria," bartender man told me.

Which was odd, Victoria would come a pick up anyone, just so they wouldn't drive. While pilfering through his wallet I asked Robert, "Why isn't Victoria coming?"

He tried to order another beer.

"I think she's still mad at me about her fight."

Well, Victoria could hold a grudge.

"What'd you fight about, dummy?"

He sighed and dropped his head on the counter, "Ryan and Sarah. I…I never meant to hit her."

There was a lot of money in his wallet.

I gave it all to the bartender, "Come now?"

He lifted his head shakily from the sticky bar counter, "I slapped her. I didn't even realize I did it till she threw me out. I apologized and all, but she wasn't having it at all."


	19. Chapter 19

**Sarah.**

**Meanwhile.**

I didn't notice Ryan until he came to a stop in front of my desk, and turned off the tape recording I was listening to.

The conversation in Farsi vanished.

Which was the only reason I put down my purple crayon, and looked up.

There stood Ryan.

There weren't many people around. Just me and that Middle Eastern looking chick, I kept forgetting her name. But she had headphones on too, whilst eating her tasty smelling lunch.

I was not hungry.

The cast on my wrist was the reason why. I had refused painkillers at the police station, therefore there was shooting pains up my wrist from the break. Sure, I'd popped Tylenol like they were M&Ms, but they hadn't kicked in yet.

Ryan had an unamused look on his face.

Pointing to the cast, "Lets start with that sergeant."

I looked at the hard cast.

Then back to Ryan, "It got slammed in a door at the police station. It's broke. Can you believe that. Don't worry, I denied all pain medicine to keep my facilities."

I had been in the stupid police station cause stupid Layla pressed battery charges, but when the cops saw the video, they saw her actually kidnapping the boys. So I was off the hook. But Victoria had to go and tell them about the stalking, that was still going on.

And I was guessing Ryan had spoken with the cops.

"Did you know about this Layla Perkins mess?"

No I did not.

So I voiced my outrage, "No. They didn't bother to inform me until the other night, when said psycho bitch called. Outrageous, I know."

"How long has it been going on?"

"The hell if I know," I told Ryan. Who then looked at my crayons. So I declared, "Someone stole all my pens. Can I like, get a reimbursement form or something? These are all I could find in my purse, other then my lipstick and crime scene caulk."

Ryan pulled a pen from the sleeve of his uniform, then asked, "Since I'm over here, anything on the tapes?"

I looked back down over my notes. Which were all in purple crayon. I had been writing down themes and names, anything that formed a pattern. Ryan had told me nothing about the tapes. So I had to draw my own conclusions. Until I was off my professional probation and could be trusted.

"Well," someone entered the room, back from their lunch break, "Sir, I noticed several distinct things. First, whoever this is is talking about goats, which I found really odd, but anyway, there are three of them. He is totally freaking as the tape progresses, so I'm thinking something is up with his goats. But then he starts talking about a city, London or St. Petersburg…but he's bringing these goats…" and then Ryan snatched the paper from me.

He looked over it.

But all was on it was words, arrows and things only I would be able to identify, until I wrote up my report and listened to the tape completely.

"How did you narrow down the city?" His tone was urgent, apparently I had figured something important out.

Oh, well, that would take explaining, but I broke it down into idiot terms. "He was talking about the city in code. Pretty much, he's bringing these goats to either the Parliament building, or the Kremlin. Me thinks it's something a little more sinister, but you turned off the tape…."

He cut me off and handed me the paper back, "The minute you get finished with that tape, I want a oral report. And then write up the report."

Good thing I was ambidextrous.

Now where was my purple glitter pen?

**Later…**

Mack had swung by my desk right before I left.

He had to stay late.

Which was how I ended up in the passenger seat of my Stang, shoving a straw down my cast, while Lissy buckled herself into the drivers seat, her sister Jenny in the back, looking a tad nervous.

"So, you're serious?" Lissy asked for the fourth time.

This itch was killing me. And my hand was just starting not to throb. "Girl, I'm positive. This is an automatic. You'll do fine. Just keep her under seventy while I itch. Jenny, are you buckled in?"

"Yes," she immediately answered.

I guess my letting her sister drive made her nervous.

We'd be fine.

Lissy turned the car on, put it in drive and inched away from the school. I continued to itch. Maybe I needed a bendy straw. How could I need a bendy straw? It was a straight cast.

The sound of Jenny praying came from the back, so I asked her, "What do you want for dinner?"

**Later that night…**

I had bribed Jenny with pizza from Domino's and we spent the whole night doing homework, watching NCIS, and eating our way through two large extra cheese pizzas.

Mack arrived around nine, we heard him climb up the side of my sailboat, and then down the stairs and into the cabin. Where we were in the living room area. Jenny had been mildly upset over the driving arrangement, until she saw the boat. Then she was cool.

When the pizza arrived one would never known she had been upset.

They seemed genuinely pleased to see their father, which was a nice thing. It would have been nice to get that excited over my own father. Jenny hopped up and ran over to him, hugged his leg tightly, and then begged of him to be allowed to spend the night in the 'ship'.

He closed the door.

Then he looked over to me after Lissy inquired into the same thing. I nodded that it was fine.

Jenny added, "And we did all our homework."

Mack laughed.

But when I nodded that it was true, he blinked and looked back to Jenny, "You did _all _ your homework?"

Jenny nodded eagerly, "Please can I stay on the ship. Please, please, please…"

**A few hours later…**

Both girls were safely tucked into the guest rooms, there were two. Jenny was just beyond thrilled that she was on a boat. I guess she had never been on one. I didn't think Lissy cared either way. She seemed particularly fond of me for some reason.

I had shared this with Victoria.

Who told me I needed to speak with Mack about the break-up and what Lissy had said to me. But I was amazed at what she had just told me, "And he just jumped off the dock? Never having swam a day in his life?"

I was seated on the end of my bed, pouring BC Powder into the crack between my cast and my skin.

Tylenol was a lost cause.

"Yes!" She screeched, "If I hadn't been there with him and Charlie, Gabriel would have drown! He just jumped into the pond after his brother to snorkel."

I laughed.

Concentrating on pouring all the BC Powder in, "What'd he say? After you drug him out of this so-called pond." I thought it was a puddle personally.

She was doing laundry, I heard her slam the dryer door. "He was genuinely disappointed, when I told him people are not born with an innate knowledge of how to swim."

I could see Gabriel being genuinely surprised, he had that great dry sense of humor.

Charlie was a more Mad TV type of funny.

"Unless you're Michael Phelps," I added.

Upon filling the cast with BC Powder, I tossed the package, and began to rub the cast into my arm. Hoping it would seep in and go down to the clean break in my arm. Or the bruise, or hell, even into the bloodstream to stop the throbbing.

I wasn't being picky.

"Oh, I gotta run, Charles is back. Talk to you later."

"Love you," I told her and then hung up the phone.

Then I glared at the cast and willed the BC Powder to work.


	20. Chapter 20

**Victoria.**

**Later that night.**

It was near eleven by the time I was almost ready for bed.

Charles and I hadn't had more then two minutes alone. It was almost sad, had we not been so busy. By the time he got home Gabriel was ready for a real swimming lesson. Then there was homework, which I left Charles in charge of while I took Lola to the vet for her spaying. When I got home I had to make sure all the lunches were packed and the boys were bathed, not to mention spend a good forty minutes on the phone with Kim. There was my homework to deal with while Charles chased off raccoons and rigged our garbage cans.

Then someone from B-Team came over to borrow Charles's .50 cal rifle to – and I quote - clear trees on his property.

Then our neighbors came over with a Quiche, Donald and Bobby, they ran the B&B across the lake. Nice couple.

It was around ten thirty when I got my teeth brushed and face washed, then grabbed the clean pj's from the drawer. A small tiny teddy top and little knickers.

I collapsed on the bed, "Ok, just have your way with me and make it quick. I'm exhausted."

Charles laughed from across the bedroom.

Laundry had to get done.

It'd get done later.

He spat something and I heard water running, he was brushing his teeth. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

Like I knew.

"You," I guessed.

Another laugh, the light in the bathroom turned off and out he came. Had I been capable of movement, I would have made a move on him. I was too tired. But not too tired to not notice the rich contrast from his navy sweatpants, to the bronze of his stomach and feet, arms and back. Or the accented peppering of dark hair on his chest.

He hopped on the bed, "Saw your Dad today."

I made an unhappy face.

"Did you tell Sarah he know's she back?"

I nodded unhappily, really not wanting to talk about it. So when the pitter-patter of feet went down the hall, and the kitchen light came on, followed by the fridge opening, I sat up. "I'll put him back in bed."

Anything to avoid this chat.

Charles made a face, but I was already off the bed and in the doorway. He collapsed on the bed. Probably thinking of a way to broach the subject more diplomatically.

Which so wasn't happening.

On the way down the hall I pulled the scrunchie from my hair, shook out the waves. I turned the corner in the hall and into the well-lit kitchen.

Where some teenage guy in a Che Guavara t-shirt was making a sandwich.

I screamed.

Which made him jump, at the sight of me he screamed and dropped the head of lettuce. His scream reached a higher pitch then mine. Scary.

He then looked me over with appreciation, "You're the new maid? Dad did good."

Maid?

"Who the hell are you?" I kicked the fridge shut and began to shout for Charles, but I heard him coming down the hall.

"And who are you?" Carrot Top demanded of me, picking up the lettuce from the floor, and continuing work on his sandwich. He gave me another look, "Nice tattoos by the way."

I glared and Charles appeared by my side, shoving me aside.

Carrot Top dropped the lettuce again when he saw Charles gun. Both his hands went above his head, "Whoa dude, take whatever you want. My parents are down the hall and have lots of old shit."

This was confusing.

But Charles wasn't having any of it, "Come on, out of the kitchen, now."

Carrot Top listened.

Charles pushed him against the wall, checked him over as the young college student asked, "So, are you like the gardener?"

When Charles was satisfied, he motioned to the kitchen table. I told the young man, "We're the new tenants."

Confusion filled his face but he sat, "What?"

Unimpressed, Charles motioned to the empty boxes, "We just moved in."

Carrot Top looked around, "Wait…so my parents moved out?"

Indeed they did, I nodded to the young man.

It was almost funny.

His parents left and didn't leave a forwarding address. How often had Ryan joked about that with me when I briefly dormed it at college.

A look of absolute shock crossed his face, "Can I use your phone?"

**6AM…**

The front door slammed.

Someone hopped down the hall, slipped, fell and swore. I rolled slightly over and Charles mumbled, "It's your turn."

Why was it my turn?

But it was, so I kicked Charles in the butt as I slid from bed. Sleepily walked from the bedroom and spotted Sarah on the floor, holding her ankle, and looking pretty messed up.

"Oh My God! Charles!"

I ran over to her and smoothed her hair back from her bloody forehead. She glared at me, "We have to kill Layla."

It didn't take a doctor to see her ankle was swollen to the size of a softball. There was plaster in her cheek and blood on her cast. What appeared to be road rash along her thigh. She was in small PT Shorts and a t-shirt.

There were funky marks on his thigh.

"Layla did all of this?"

The look Sarah gave me was deadly, which she nursed her ankle, "The bitch hit me with her car while I was running." She was seething mad. I wouldn't have been surprised if she didn't feel any pain. She then looked me in the eye, "You have to clean me up and help me get my boots on. If Ryan sees me like this, I'll be out on sick leave and that won't work."

Was she serious?

The hall light came on and then Charles ran back in the bedroom. Likely to get the "Goody Box" from the bathroom.

Sarah was dead serious.

I looked her over again.

No obvious signs of a head injury. Her ankle looked badly sprained, but was in a sneaker. She was scratched up and had gravel in the wounds. What was a grill was indented in her thigh. "Sarah, your ankle is going to swell to a larger state."

To which she replied, "It can swell in my boots. I'll elevate it at my desk. You have to help me get ready for work."

There was no arguing with her.

So I unlaced her sneaker and opened it as much as I could. She must have bounced over the roof of the car. "Is it broken?"

She shook her head as Charles came back, "I can walk on it and put weight on it. It just aggravated my old muscle injury."

Charles dropped an old ammo box on the floor. I pulled the boot off and asked him, "Could you carry her in the bathroom? A hot shower will relax the muscles." I found some Motrin and opened the bottle, gave her two which she downed without water.

"I can walk," she spat, but was ignored. To which she then added, "Damn Charles, you had the worst taste in women! If you hadn't met my sister, you would have been married to this loser. She's crazy!"


	21. Chapter 21

Abstract

**Meanwhile.**

After dropping off both his daughters at school, Mack swung by his apartment needing to collect his gym bag on his way to work. Upon pulling into a parking spot semi-close to the stairs he was spotted.

A car door a few cars down slammed, and Tiffy stormed over to him. No sooner had Mack closed his own car door did he notice his furious soon-to-be-ex-wife.

"Where were you last night? I tried calling your cell phone and the apartment! Did you have the girls out with you?"

Digging into his pocket, "They were at a sleepover. What's wrong?"

Her blue eyes narrowed, "A sleepover?"

He met her gaze but said nothing.

Disbelief crossed her face and he headed toward his building. Checking his watch. He had just under an hour before he had to get to work. Plenty of time to make himself breakfast, grab his bag, and get gas on the way.

Tiffy stormed after him, "I called Michelle's mom and Kim. The girls weren't at their houses."

"What do you need Tiffy?"

She followed him, "Did you take them on a bootycall with you?"

Almost to his building, Mack stepped onto the sidewalk. Keys in hand, "What do you want Tiffy?"

Glowering she hissed, "Oh that is just great parenting Mack! Do you take them to the bar too? Who is it?"

"Tiffy, nothing happened last night. There was nothing inappropriate. Why are you here?"

An elderly couple walked by and the door stayed open, and then closed. Mack waited while she boiled. Not really wanting her in the apartment. It was not exactly in pristine condition.

"Lissy has a dentist appointment at three this afternoon," she seethed.

"Is that all? You could have left a message on the answering machine."

"Who is she," Tiffy demanded.

She crossed her arms and waited, letting Mack know she was not budging, "I think I deserve to know who she is."

Mack felt emotion well up.

Knowing just how she was feeling: frustrated, hurt, angry, betrayed…

"Is it that woman Lissy was talking about? Charles's sister-in-law? The Army girl?"

His silence and glare was her answer.

Her jaw dropped, "She is a _child_ Mack! She just became legal last year!"

A million replies came back to mind.

All were sharp and hurtful.

He wasn't quite ready to go there yet. "Why do you care Tiffy?"

Flabbergasted, she looked around at the early morning. There was still a chill in the air, yet, he made no move to enter the building. "So! So you are just banging some girl you work with? What kind of example does that show our daughters?"

"I'm sure you've already introduced them to that," he snarled.

Her blue eyes darkened.

"She's not a child. She has a real job, owns her own home, has a stable family and was happily married."

Tiffy laughed, feeling inept till that last part, "Was? That's just great Mack. You introduce our girls to some girl who runs off and gets married and divorced before the ripe age of twenty-five."

A businessman walked from the building. Waving to Mack, checking Tiffy out, and then headed to his Beamer.

Mack leant closer to her.

Letting her see his hurt and anger, "She never _left_ her husband. She's a widow. The love of her life died and left her life, it wasn't a choice."

**hours later…**

Sarah sat at her desk, earphones on her head, writing away on her notepad from the recording she was following. A cup of pens sat securely on her desk and had been when she arrived.

It was a good morning.

There was a swell under her green camo sleeve from her cast.

Beneath her desk her black combat boot was in a bucket of ice. Her foot was essentially. She had her timer set for ten minutes. Ten minutes in and ten minutes out, thus preventing frostbite.

A small manila envelope was dropped on her desk as one of the personnel officers walked by.

The envelope read, Sarah W. Mendez.

She grabbed the envelope and prayed it was what she had been waiting for for months. The Army was so slow. Still paying attention to the tape, she ripped the envelope open.

Out fell five Velcro name patches.

All read Mendez.

And her new Military ID fell out with her name correction.

Sarah W. Mendez.

Officially Armando's wife according to the Army.

Immediately she ripped the nametag that read Wilkes off her chest, and then put the Mendez tag on. Quite pleased with herself. She put the other badges in her purse and then exchanged her IDs.

She then went back to work.


	22. Chapter 22

Author's Note: So, I was nodding off during Math Models, yes, I am in another math class, the horror never

**Victoria.**

**A little later.**

"But why does Sarah have to move in?"

For the hundredth time he complained. He whined and moaned about it since the workers arrived to start laying foundation for her sailboat. Right next to the house.

She had already cleared it with the landlord naturally.

Charles pulled into the parking lot for the vet. Parking up close, which I avoided, now that the vehicle I was driving took over one spot. Charles didn't seem to notice.

"Because Sarah always lives nearby. And, with me going to school and you being gone for work, it's nice having her around to help, and be there. It's not like she's moving in the house."

He unhooked his belt, "She lives three miles away! Why does she have to move so close? You could jog to her house. She already spends half the week at our house, sleeping on the couch, and eating our food."

"This is not up for discussion," I informed him, and then hopped from the humvee.

Charles followed me. "Just think about it Victoria, she'll be within walking distance of the house. Not that I don't think she's not great and all, but, why does she have to live with us."

I ignored him and he opened the door to the vet's office.

He bumped into me since I had stopped in the doorway. None other then Layla was there, arguing with the receptionist. Which completely threw me through a loop. What was she doing here? And then I caught the receptionist telling her, "…don't care who you are, unless I get a call from Mrs. Grey telling me you're here to pick up her dog, I'm not releasing her to you."

The receptionist heard the bell on the door and looked relieved at the sight of me.

Layla was trying to kidnap my dog!

I glared at Charles and smacked his chest, "You better fix this now, or I'm calling the cops."

He had asked me to leave the cops out of it. Apparently they weren't a fan of his. And right at that moment neither was I. I stormed over to the desk and shoved Layla out of the way, informing the receptionist, "She's never to pick up my dog, ever. If she comes back, call the cops and then call me."

The receptionist gave Layla a '_told you so, bitch,'_ look.

Charles roughly grabbed Layla and hauled her out of the Vet's office. While I looked to the receptionist and asked, "How is Lola?"

The receptionists eyes narrowed after them, "Pulled through like a champion." She then grabbed the phone and hit a number, "Mrs. Grey is here for Lola." She put the phone down and told me, "The vet will bring her right out."

Perfect.

I glanced over at the window, which looked out into the parking lot. There were Charles and Layla fighting, yelling and shoving each other.

"You want me to call the cops?"

I shook my head, "That's ok."

For a few minutes I waited and then took Lola, who was all doped up. The vet told me what to do with her and how to care for her, after her surgery. Then he carried her to my Humvee. Glancing over at Charles and Layla, who were still yelling about how he broke her heart, broke off their engagement. Which I was none the wiser to.

Being all doped up, Lola didn't even notice the vet. She was still in Lala Land with pink flying unicorns.

With Charles and Layla still yelling, I went home. After all it was a mere three miles, Sarah could jog that distance.

**An hour and a half later…**

The front door slammed.

I heard it, but didn't really do anything. I was on the bathroom floor with my laptop on my lap, Lola in the shower on blankets and towels while she slept. She'd thrown up twice so far. So she needed supervision. And the phone on my ear.

I heard Charles shouting for me.

But ignored him, while Kim continued to tell me how to solve the equation for out homework in social stats. Which was on the computer.

Lola snored from her bed.

"And apparently, the Theoretical number is just A.26, I called him, and apparently it's always A."

I made a note of that in my notepad by my side, just as Charles probably found the vomit trail. "That's beautiful Kim. Amazing, Charles just got home. Do you want me to swing by the base and pick you up for class tonight?"

The sound of Charles swearing drew near.

Then came Kim's Texan accent, "All right sweetie, I'll see you then. Good luck with the stats."

Yeah, like that was happening.

"Bye," I told her as Charles appeared in the doorway, none to happy. "You left me with that psychotic bitch. Someone in the vet's office called the cops Victoria, they came and brought me home. They could have arrested me."

I gave him a blank stare.

One Sarah had perfected by the age of eleven.

Hopefully mine was just as good.

"So, you lied to me," I countered and turned back to the laptop.

Lola continued to snore.

I could sense his outrage and disbelief. He then grabbed the laptop from my lap, thus preventing me from ignoring him and continuing my homework. He was in the mood for a fight. I hated fighting with him. I was the most stubborn person I knew, it would end badly, like the past three times we had fought. It had ended very badly. So badly, we never mentioned those times ever. It was so bad. I looked up at him and snarled, "Do you really want to pick a fight with me? I will so throw your lying ass out of this house again."

Very carefully he set the computer down on the bathroom sink.

Still outraged, "So little fib years ago takes precedent over my almost getting arrested, and battered by a psycho bitch."  
Remaining on the floor, I clued him in, "You're the one who dated psycho bitch, and was apparently engaged to her. Forgive me for bringing this all down upon us." Every word from my mouth dripped with sarcasm.

"Victoria, I don't want to fight with you," he lied.

Oh yes he did, he wanted to fight. But with anyone. Not particularly me. He was just in the mood to fight. "Then you need to get out of my face."

His jaw twitched.

I glared at him.

Then he stormed from the bedroom, down the hall, and I heard the front door slam.

Lola stirred, but I rubbed her back.

Successfully feeling like shit.

Naturally I called Sarah.


	23. Chapter 23

**Sarah.**

**Meanwhile.**

"Victoria, this isn't your fault, he's an evil prick. We should set him on fire," I calmly told my sister from the bathroom floor.

It was my lunch break after all.

So I was laying on the bathroom floor with my foot on a chair. Eating my tuna sandwich, elevating my throbbing foot, and sipping my Dr. Pepper through a straw. I had a big day of translating ahead of me and twenty more minutes on my lunch break.

"Don't set anyone else on fire. Remember what happened the last time?"

Annoyed. I rolled my eyes and someone knocked on the bathroom door.

"Hold on," I told my sister, then shouted, "Closed for repair! Use the one by the pool!"

Losers.

I then took a bite from my sandwich, and adjusted my cell foot, while rotating my foot.

"Did you call the police to file a report about the incident this morning?"

I laughed, "Yeah, the morons said they couldn't file a report over the phone. So I'll have to drop by when I'm done at work. Idiots, I can't stand incompetence. At least with corrupt cops I could get stuff done over the phone. Why can't people just cater to me?"

She sighed and typed away on her laptop. I swore I heard someone snoring in the background.

"Do you want me to come with you when you go?"

She was so good to me. Ever since we were little girls. She was an amazing sister, but she was changing the subject, "So…if Charles cheats on you and you throw him out…can I move into your finished basement?"

A sigh came over the other line.

I hated when they fought. They were the most stubborn and passionate people I knew, they could fight for weeks on end. Rarely did they fight, but when they did, it was bad.

"If Charles cheats on me I am giving you permission to set him on fire."

I was about seventy-five percent sure he wouldn't cheat.

Someone again knocked on the door.

What did they think this was? A public bathroom? The audacity! I lifted the phone from my ear and shouted, "Closed for repair!" Then put the phone back, "Sweetie, he won't cheat. He knows you'd leave if he did. But just in case, change the locks on account of this Layla, and forget to tell him."

That someone tried to push open the door.

Ignoring them, I turned my attention back to Victoria, as she was asking, "…it wrong to leave him at the vets office with her? I was just so shocked to hear that they had been engaged…I mean God, I'm a home wrecker."

"Victoria, there was no home to wreck. Before he dated you he was with like thirty different girls."

She made an unhappy noise.

He was so getting set on fire.

Before I could tell her something scathing, the lock on the bathroom door opened. There stood Mack and Ryan.

"I told you she was in here," Mack observed and then vanished.

Talk about bad positions to be in. "I'm going to need to call you back," I told Victoria, then closed my phone. There was no telling why Ryan wanted in the women's bathroom so I kept quiet. He approached me and looked at my position.

Then he inquired, "Would you happen to speak, or even be conversational, in Aramaic?"

Who wasn't?

I blinked, acting kinda insulted, "Yeah, but I'm on my lunch break. If I hope out of this yoga position too early, my entire center of balance will be off for the rest of the day."

Ignoring my yoga thing completely he asked, "How familiar are you with the language?"

God, he was so going to cut my lunch break short! I sighed and shoved the cell phone in my left sleeve, "I did some translating in the Vatican for a friend of mine when I lived there. But I mean, I would say my skills in the language are an eight out of ten. You should really consider finding someone with a ten in that department. It is a uncommon language and my grasp may not be one hundred percent, and I'm on my lunch break."

With a look at my ankle. His eyes narrowed, "Have you center of gravity worked out and your lunch done, and get to Porter's office in sixty seconds."

He turned and walked out, leaving me on the floor.

"Yes sir," was really all I could say.


	24. Chapter 24

**Victoria.**

**Later that afternoon.**

Having left the boys in the waiting room, I sat in my doctors office, waiting. Still in a foul mood. I had told Charles he needn't bother coming, even though it was his day off.

I was still pissed off at him.

Which I knew when I had given my sons each water guns, in which to amuse themselves while I was in the office. Usually it was gameboys. But, I wanted other people to be as miserable as me.

Again, my phone buzzed.

Alerting me that I had another voicemail message.

Probably from Charles, since he had called me a few minutes earlier. I wasn't in the mood to listen to him. There was something about finding out one was a home wrecker, that put one in a foul mood.

The door to the doctor's office opened.

In came my doctor, Dr. Woo.

He gave me a kind smile, holding my chart in hand. A middle aged Asian man with a Mohawk and really spiffy glasses, he quietly closed the door, "Afternoon Mrs. Grey. How are you feeling today? Any stiffness? Pain or discomfort?"

Oh, if he only knew!

With a shake of my head, I informed him, "My paper gown ripped."

He laughed.

Then shoved the film from my CAT scan in a light box on the wall. I was looking at my chest. It looked good to me. He pointed out the parts that had been damaged in the accident and where the original surgery had been.

I wasn't really paying attention.

I was still fuming.

When I heard the word 'normal' and 'one more checkup, possibly two to make sure that everything continues to heal normally' I began to pay attention.

Again, my cell phone buzzed.

Again, I ignored it.


	25. Chapter 25

**Charles.**

**Meanwhile.**

She was driving me up the wall.

Not answering my calls of texts, which was why I had to go all the way to the cave, find Mack, take phone, and call her that way. I wanted to fight. So I'd go box when I was done. But I needed to talk with her first, and she was just being impossible.

I hated fighting with her. Even when I was right I always lost.

So, from in the crowded locker room, I called her and on the third ring Charlie picked up, "Ello?"

Damn damn damn!

But I faked nice, "Hey son, is your mom there?"

I heard him tell Victoria it was me and then heard her tell him what he repeated, "She's driving." Which was the biggest load of shit in the world. I'd seen her paint her toenails and balance her checkbook all while driving, all at the same time.

She was the worse driver in the world.

"Could you hand her the phone," I inquired.

I heard, "Here Mom, its Dad."

A few seconds passed and I was disconnected.

**The next day in the locker room…**

I opened my locker and slammed the locker door that made Bob glance up from the bench.

"Problems?"

I tried to be civil, which didn't work, my one word answer came out in a snarl, "Nope."

Which made Mack and Jonas glance over at me in interest. Jonas's voice boomed from his locker, "Problems at home?"

I glared at him.

So Mack then added, "How can you be having problems at home? You are cohabitating with someone who changes their own oil."

Bob looked up from the magazine he was loaded, "Wait, I thought they finally got married?" To which Mack shook his head, "No. She just changed her name, lives with him, is mother of his children and dependent. She's refusing to marry him. Sarah explained it all to me."

The bitch was going to die soon.

She had slept in my bed with Victoria, while I had to sleep on the couch. And she gave me that _look_, like she was planning on setting me on fire, or something equally painful.

Bob began to ask something, but Jonas inquired, "Are you two fighting like you did over the whole _adoption verses experimental lady surgery fight of 07_?"

That was a horrible fight.

I'd been sent to the couch for three straight months, when I was home. All our fights, all 3 of them were horrible, so horrible they had names. "She hasn't spoken a word to me since we argued. She's not even looking at me. And, her sister threw my clothes out of the bedroom."

Mack laughed.

Bob whistled.

And Jonas's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Are you two fighting in front of the children?"

"Sarah told them that she was doing an experiment, for her psych class, on ignoring me."

Bob cringed.

Mack laughed some more.

Jonas leant against his locker, continuing the loading of a magazine as well. "What exactly are you fighting over?"

Mack closed his locker. Dropped down on the bench, and began to dismantle his .40 cal. But listened with interest.

All the extra magazines in my locker were pre-loaded. So I fiddled began to dig for the weapon cleaning kit. "She left me at the vets office with the psycho bitch, and the police, who adore me as you know."

Mack laughed hysterically and Bob gaped, "She just left you?"

"She took the dog home," I corrected.

"What did you do," Jonas inquired.

Why was it always my fault? "I never told her that I was engaged to that psycho, and then dumped her when I met Victoria. Somehow that makes me a liar."

Mack was wheezing he laughed so hard. Jonas narrowed his eyebrows, "How'd she even find out?"

I gave him that look.

"What," Bob asked.

"Layla and Charles were fighting at the vets office. Layla probably mentioned it and Victoria overheard it. Women hear everything. Especially the damning stuff."

Upon finding the kit I slammed my locker, and then plopped down.

Bob inquired, "Didn't she already know you were dating a horde of females when she met you?"

"Yeah! That's why I don't get why she's so pissed. So I forgot to mention I was engaged, big deal. It wasn't like I was even going to marry Layla."

Jonas made his thoughtful face.

Clearly he and Bob were as confused as I was, Mack was on the verge of having an asthma attack he was wheezing so hard. Finally he grabbed his water bottle from the floor. But a flash of brilliance hit Bob, "That's why she won't marry you."

We all, except Mack, looked at him.

Bob gestured towards me, still popping bullets in the magazine.

"She didn't even know about Layla till a few weeks ago. She refused to marry me years ago, when I proposed the first time."

Bob rolled his eyes. "No! How have you managed to hold onto this woman? Grey, she won't marry you because she is afraid you will leave her too. It's glaringly obvious, she's not secure enough in trusting you not to leave. Paired with your history of dating a slew of women and then dumping them both times she has entered your life. And now, upon finding out how easy it is for you to dump a betrothed. And look at her father, how many times has Ryan been married? And her biological father, he left his wife for another woman."

I stared at him like he was insane. "We have been together for nearly three years."

Looking back to his full magazine, Bob grabbed an empty one to fill, "Women hide things. Ask her sister, she'll know exactly why Victoria won't marry you, hell, my wife would probably know."

Having recovered from his hysterics, Mack nodded, closing his water bottle, "That's true, women talk to other women when they're mad. Sarah was probably the first person she called after your more recent fight."

**During the lunch break…**

Sarah was at her desk when I dropped by, box of bullets in hand to bribe her with. Holding the box in hand, I asked her, "Sarah, I have a question for you."

She cocked an eyebrow, then held out her hand.

"Do you promise to answer the question?"

Her blue eyes narrowed, "What caliber?"

".40."

She beamed, took the box, "What's that?"

I leant close, "Why won't Victoria marry me?"

She admired her box of bullets, "Because you're funny looking."

"Seriously Sarah."

She sighed and put the bullets in her purse, then looked me in the eyes. "Do you really want to know? Because, once it is out of my mouth I can't take it back. And I know she gave you the spiel about how Dad's don't have to be married to the Mom, and whatever."

"Just tell me," I demanded.

She looked around even though we were alone in the command room. Then she looked at me as if she were weighing the options. Finally she just told me, "She doesn't think she can hold your attention forever. She loves you completely and all that, you know, but you've been with a lot of women. For some reason, she figures if you leave her she can just up and leave, you know, not have to deal with a divorce and whatever. Now, if you can find bullets for my .50 cal, I'll put in a good word for you."


	26. Chapter 26

**Later that day…**

Sarah plopped down at the Applebee's bar and handed the bartender a fifty. Motioning with her finger, she then gave him specific instructions, while she set her hat down on the bar, and wound her long legs around the stool. "Listen princess, I'm going to need to be intoxicated for the rest of the night. Serve me five Long Island Ice Tea's and when I am finished, I should be falling off this stool drunk," she then handed him a card, "When that happens call my sister and tell her to come pick me up. Here's her number, Victoria is her name. Now…get snappy on the drinks."

With a lively crowd in the restaurant, Sarah had every intention to impair herself. Working had done a great job, but work was over till morning. And she just needed one night where she wouldn't remember it was her birthday and wedding anniversary.

As she had since Armando died, she got hammered on the day, and celebrated her birthday the day afterwards.

While the bartender rang up the drinks, the pocketed his hefty tip, Sarah glared at some nerd eyeing her. Successfully scaring him off.

Once a drink was placed in front of her she began to drink. Not even a drinker. But just needing to kill the pain that was normally able to be controlled, however, on her birthday, it was always unbearable.

**An hour and a half later…**

Charles closed the front door beside him, ready for battle.

He kicked off his sneakers, in the general direction of the shoe condo. Following the no shoe rule that Victoria had picked up whilst living in Japan.

His biological and recently adopted son sat side by side, peering into a box. Making a mental note to find out what was in the box later, Charles followed the sound of Victoria's voice.

It drifted down the hall from the bedroom.

The bedroom he was currently banned from.

He came to a stop in the doorway, socked feet soundless on the wooden floor. Victoria was on the bed with the portable phone attached to her ear, the phonebook on the bed.

"…well if she comes in would you just call me? Ok that's wonderful, thank you." She clicked the phone off and looked back to the phone book, obviously frustrated. So much so she didn't notice he was there till he cleared his throat. When she looked up she looked up with bloodshot eyes.

She'd been crying.

"Did Sarah happen to mention where she was going?"

Charles was stumped, concerned, and unsure, "No. Why? What's wrong?"

Victoria let out a shaky breath, "Don't you know what today is?"

He ran through every important date in his head. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Weddings and funerals. Not able to think of anything.

She marked off something in the phonebook, "It's Sarah's birthday and wedding anniversary. Do you remember last year?"

When he thought he remembered.

Remembered Sarah getting so hammered she couldn't remember her own name. And when she sobered up it was worse, she sobbed like it hurt to breath. It had been a bad day. He had to watch and listen to Victoria comfort her destroyed younger sister.

So they decided her birthday would be celebrated the day after.

Unsure, he remained in the doorway.

Victoria asked, turning the phonebook page, "How did she seem to you today? She took off before I woke up this morning."

Charles entered the room hesitantly, "She seemed fine." When he was closer he saw whom she was calling. She was calling every bar in the phonebook. There was also a Nutri-Grain bar wrapper on the bed.

Charles picked it up, "Is this all you ate for dinner?"

The phone rang.

Victoria snatched it up as if it were a lifeline. She put it to her ear, desperate, "Hello? Sarah?"

She paused and he stepped closer, trying to overhear.

But she leapt from the bed and grabbed her purse from the floor, "Ok, I'll be right there. Thank you so much, bye."

**Meanwhile. **

**At the same Applebee's.**

Three people sat in a booth cramming their third plate of nachos into their hungry mouths.

They were all cousin's. Kayla sat beside Keagon, and across from then sat Kerri, who took up the entire booth.

Kayla and Keagon were near identical. Blonde haired, blue eyed, model like bone structure. Keagon's body showed the countless hours he spent in the gym a day, and he proudly showed it off and flirted with every female in sight.

Then there was Kerri. Her hair was dyed black and her eyes a hazel. Standing at six foot five inches, weighing more then both her cousins across the booth from her. Kerri was a big girl. She sipped her Bud Light and asked, "So we can do anything to this bitch we want? Rob her? Beat her? Whatever?"

Kayla nodded, she fiddled with the nacho in hand, "Whatever you two want to do to her. I don't care. I want her gone and out of his life. She'll be alone in the house tomorrow." Kayla then handed Keagon a piece of printer paper. "Here is her schedule for tomorrow. You can do it before or after she picks her kids up from school."

Reaching across the table, Kerri grabbed three nacho chips, "Do you care about the kids?"

Kayla shrugged.

"So…is he really worth all this? He's not even white Kayla, you could do so much better."

Kayla pouted at Keagon, "He left me Keagon, no one has left me before. We were engaged. Those kids should be mine. That house should be mine. She needs to know she can't steal men from other women. She needs to learn a lesson. I don't care what you do about the kids."

**Half an hour later…**

Victoria shoved her way through the crowded restaurant and found her younger sister, passed out, and slumped over the bar. Sound asleep by the looks of it. Still in her BDUs and black boots from work. Shifting her purse over her shoulder she walked over and managed to catch the bartender, "Excuse me, how much do I owe you?"

He waved her off, filling a draft at the tap, "Paid up. Just get her off the stool."

She smiled, then gave him a thumbs up, and finally looked at her sister. Wondering just how she would move her. Since Sarah now outweighed her older sister by twenty pounds, all of it muscle. Thinking she could possibly support her sister, Victoria looped her limp arm around her shoulders and pulled. Pulling Sarah right off the stool, off her shoulders and on the floor.

Sarah landed with a thump.

Not even stirring.

She looked heavenwards and took deep calming breath, which so didn't work. She then picked her younger sister up under her armpits and proceeded to drag her through the packed restaurant.

Upon making it past the salad bar a hand fell on her shoulder.

"Need a hand?"

Again, she dropped Sarah and stood, facing Jonas and Molly Blaine, who were leaving too.

Horror filled her face.

"Sh-she's just got…a little, food poisoning and she's tired, very tired. It's been a long day. She's not drunk. She doesn't drink," Victoria lied. Praying Jonas and Molly weren't the type to tell Ryan. Who got fussy over his translators drinking in excess, excess that led to Sarah's current state.

Jonas and Molly both looked at Sarah's still form.

Molly and Jonas shared a look.

"Why don't I give you a hand with her then?" Jonas calmly offered, not only was Victoria a crappy liar, she blushed three shades of red.

"Oh no no no," she quickly added, knowing he'd smell the booze, "I've got her. You two have a good night." Seriously considering dragging her sister from the restaurant by her boots. Victoria then quickly pulled Sarah up from under her armpits again, and wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging Sarah she began to waddle backwards.

Struggling with all her valiant effort.

She made it out both entrance doors to the chain restaurant. Molly shot a _do something _ look to Jonas, who was mere steps behind Victoria. He caught up with her in the night filled parking lot. Placing a large hand on her wrist, "Let me give you a hand, please."

A look close to pain crossed Victoria's face, "Don't tell Ryan. She doesn't do this except two days out of the year."

Jonas remained silent. A statue while Victoria clung to her sister.

"The day Armando died and their wedding anniversary. She just does this so she can sleep."

Molly appeared beside Victoria, "We won't say a word. Let Jonas carry her to your car."


	27. Chapter 27

_Authors Note: Howdy! So I am working on a APA Bibliography, and decided to write a chapter, and since someone has asked about Gabriel, I have decided to add him in here a little, or how he appeared, so hope you enjoy!_

**Victoria.**

By the time I got home with Sarah, who wasn't feeling anything at all, literally and figuratively, I let her drunk ass in the Humvee to sleep it off. She'd be fine in the driveway. If anyone tried to hurt her she'd intoxicate them with her breath. I even cracked the windows, not wanting the vehicle to smell like a Tiki-Bar come morning.

By the time I trudged up the steps and into the house, it was quiet. Except for Charles who was on the phone, chatting with someone of importance, since he was taking notes. And the TV was on to the Weather Channel.

I dropped my purse.

Collapsed on the couch.

And began to listen to his soothing voice. Too exhausted to do anything else for the given moment. Everything hurt from my feet, to my side, even my soul. I could have fallen into a hour-less slumber, had I not been listening to his perfect voice.

His words caught my attention.

"…yes ma'am, we will certainly talk about this. Yes we do want to extend our family. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for thinking about us."

I sat straight up as if a metal rod was inserted into my spine.

Charles was talking to the adoption lady.

The same lady we adopted Gabriel from upon our return visit from the whole vacation from hell in Grenada.

I listened closely as he wrote more stuff down on the notepad.

"What time should I call you tomorrow to give you our answer…ok, seven it will be, I will talk with you tomorrow…yes we will, and thank you again." At that he hung up the phone and looked at me.

A smile on his face, "Wrong number."

I grabbed a pillow from the couch and hurled it at him, which he deftly caught without any effort. Grabbing the notepad he came over to the couch, plopping down beside me. "That was the adoption agency," he told me.

Which I had already figured out.

"And…" I urged.

There was a twinkle in his eye that hadn't been there earlier. "Gabriel's older sister is having a baby and she doesn't want it. The adoption lady called to ask if we would like to adopt it? It will be born in three months, but we have to call her tomorrow and let her know, apparently there is high demand for newborn adoptions."

I sat back against the couch back, curled my feet beneath me, no longer quite so tired.

"What are you thinking," I wanted to know.

He glanced over the paperwork.

Then he looked right at me with his dark eyes and asked, "Do you love me?"

The question was just so absurd it took my breath away. I gaped at him and demanded, "Are you serious?"

He continued to stare and waited for an answer.

This man was going to be the death of me. I took a very long breath and smacked him upside his head. Hoping to smack some sense into Charles, "I love you more then you will ever know. Why on Earth would you even _ think_ to question that? Did you get hit on the head today?"

"Sarah told me why you won't marry me," he announced, thus causing my mouth to snap shut and my throat to close. I'm pretty sure my face went red with shame.

Good thing she was out in the driveway sleeping it off.

"How could you even think that? Is that why you were so mad at me the other day? You think I'm going to leave you like her?"

Literally words would not form, they could not come. All I could do was stare and continue to blush in shame.

I was such a coward.

Sarah would have been ashamed.

"I have always loved you. From the first minute I saw you, when you were with Ryan in that airport in Brazil, arguing with him over whatever you two were arguing over. I have loved you since that moment and no one else will do. No one else will ever compare to you. Don't you understand? I love you so much it hurts."

Still, I could not say anything, I couldn't form words.

And he waited.

Until finally I managed a, "I'm sorry."

He took a breath and put his palm on the back of my head, pulling me to his shoulder, where I willingly went and wrapped my arms around his warm chest. I really hated myself at that moment in time. Again, against his neck I told him that I was sorry. Especially sorry he had to hear it from someone whom he wasn't very fond of.

"There are problems in every relationship," he assured me.

Well that was true.

Ours had pretty much no problems except for me.

I was a neurotic mess.

Sarah blamed Ryan and our five year adventure abroad.

Charles pulled me back so I faced him, he placed his hand on my chin and made me look him in the eyes. With his other hand he stroked my face. He was so good to me. "I think we should get married. It doesn't have to be anything huge. We can just run off, go to that Elvis wedding Chapel tonight. We can take the boys, Sarah, and the dog. Then you can hear in a sacred vow of matrimony, that I will never ever leave you. And we can be a real family."

For some reason it sounded like a great idea.

The whole thought of a huge wedding terrified me. But something small, intimate, just us and the boys made so much more sense. It didn't make my stomach knot with fear and dread. And it was something that he wanted. Maybe it would make that terror of him leaving me lessen.

So I agreed to it, "You'll have to put Sarah in the back of the Humvee, or there won't be much room. She's sort of splayed across the front seats."

**Dawn.**

Officially, Mrs. Grey now, Charles and I set to going through the finances.

With Sarah still in the back of the Humvee, covered with a tarp, and sleeping it off, and the boys back in bed after their exciting midnight wedding. We now had official business to get around doing.

Bank accounts to go through.

Savings to get exact digits on.

Investments, meager as they were, every little bit would help.

When we had adopted Gabriel it hadn't been a problem. We had used money from the book Sarah published and our savings.

It had been a quick adoption.

His parents had been killed in a car crash and he was going into foster care. We took him in within a week of getting back, and within a few months the adoption had gone through. Sure, Dad had known someone in DFACS to make sure they didn't poke too deep around us, and Charles's work.

And going through a private adoption agency had made the whole process go a lot speedier.

This time we would have to dig for some extra funds.

By the time the sun was rising Charles and I decided we could do it, but money would be tight.

Having ended up at the dining room table on our wedding night, Charles sipped his coffee, I'd lost count of how many cups he had over the night. "I can get a zero percent military loan. Or we can go by the bank. We're only short two grand."

I read over the budget we had made again.

Then decided call my book agent and tell him to go ahead and look for a publisher. And a job. A job would be good. "I can drop by the bank today and ask around. It's really not that much money and seeing as we have the majority of the money." I sagged against his strong shoulder, exhausted again, but much happier and content.

Gone were most the bad feelings.

Even at the sound of feet stomped up the front steps.

Sarah was awake and moving.

The front door opened with a slam and she came in, her eyes narrowed at the both of us. Charles never looked up from the calculator as he continued to punch in numbers, "Is this whole getting hammered on your birthday thing going to become a tradition."

She scowled, left the door open, and went into the kitchen.

She bumped into a wall and eventually found the coffee machine.

"That sounds good. I'll go to work early and find out about the loan." Charles determined, and then added, "We can always pay it off when I get my Christmas Bonus."

Sarah peered from the kitchen, mug in hand, "What do you need money for?"

Somehow she had rolled out of the Humvee looking ready for work.

I glanced over my shoulder, "We're going to adopt again."

A perfectly arched eyebrow rose, "How much do you need?"


	28. Chapter 28

1

**Sarah.**

So, there I was, just minding my own business, talking to the idiot at the bank who was refusing to let me move two grand into Victoria's bank account. Apparently I had to be there, which was total BS. While I read over some papers in Farsi that were on my desk, and listened to the news, which was always on. I was such a good soldier!

While sipping my white hot chocolate, I circled another mention to a terrorist who I really didn't care about. "No, you aren't hearing me lady. I cannot just come down there when you want me to. I have a _real _job."

Somehow that offended her.

Which was so not my problem.

I flipped to the next page and scanned the text for anything that stood out as 'terroristy.'

She then had the nerve to tell me I was being unreasonable. Which was so untrue. I could so be reasonable. She just didn't get me.

I continued circling as someone slammed something down on my desk. I looked up, there stood Colonel Ryan. I held up my finger to him. Demanding of the woman, "Do you have a supervisor there I can talk to?"

She informed me she was the supervisor.

"Well let me talk to whoever is above you. Can you manage that?"

Ryan pursed his lips.

So I put the phone to my chest, demanding of him, "What? I'm still working on these."

"I have a new job for you," he informed me.

How was that not surprising? Motioning toward the pile on the corner of my desk, "Just put it there and I'll do it next." Then I put the phone back to my ear as she was yakking about how her boss could not help me. To which I rudely asked her, "Then why do I bother to bank with your bank? You are completely useless!"

She had the nerve to hang up on me!

Ryan still stood there.

So I asked, "And…?"

"You'll have to go next door to the Air Force Base. Go to hanger 4 and ask for Colonel Patrick."

He had to be kidding.

I gaped at him, "You are loaning me out to the Air Force?"

"Only for an hour," he assured me.

He was amazing, utterly amazing. I was so not going to be able to call the bank lady until later, possibly during my lunch break. "What about this Farsi stuff? Do you want me to finish it up?"

Ryan picked up what I had written on. Notes I'd taken and things I'd highlighted, "I'll have Jones look at it." He began to walk away with the papers, but he paused and turned back to my desk while I grabbed my hot coco, with my uncasted hand. "Would you happen to know where Grey is? Blaine told me he missed the shooting house this morning."

I stood and seriously considered whether I should tell Ryan or not. Was this going to be a surprise for the man? Since he had two other grandkids I highly doubted it. So I informed him, "They're meeting with the adoption lady again. I think they're getting a baby this time, but they both had to be there to sign the papers."

Car keys in hand, I was ready to go find Colonel Patrick.

Ryan seemed genuinely surprised and pleased. A rare smile crossed his face and then it vanished. "Oh, well then, Grey can make up for it later then."

He was practically leaping for joy.

At that I bid him farewell, "See you later sir."

**About 30 minutes later.**

It took me longer to find a parking spot, then to get through the 'secure area' but since I was in uniform, with my work badge, I'm sure it helped.

And the Air Force people were probably expecting me.

So it didn't take me long to find Colonel Patrick. Who was oddly a Japanese woman. But whatever. She glanced up from her clipboard in a hanger, by a big and mean looking plane.

A fighter jet officially.

"You're Sergeant Mendez? From Ryan's command?"

"Yes Ma'am, what can I translate for you?"

She pointed to the mean looking jet thing, "Inside are words carved into various parts of the cockpit. See if you can have any better luck then the other people who have looked at them."

Oh…so this was a challenge.

Along with why they couldn't just send over the thing they needed translated.

"Yes Ma'am," I repeated and then walked around the massive beast.

I found the ladder and climbed up. Finding there was a lieutenant in the back seat, doing something official looking with a clipboard. Since time was a factor, my hot coco was in the car and getting cold, I inquired, "Where's this writing, Sir?"

Lieutenant man looking up at me.

Very Terrence Howard, all sorts of yumminess.

On his nametag was Washington. I had to remember that. Lt. Washington. He pointed to the seat in front of him, "You'll have to sit in the seat Sergeant, the writing is everywhere."

Ok, whatever.

I climbed into the cockpit, into the front seat, feeling all sorts of bad. I was sitting in the front seat of a fighter jet.

I loved my job!

And then I saw the writing. And it was everywhere. Someone had scratched Gibberish all over every inch of surface in the cockpit. What was with the nonsense? Someone had _way_ too much spare time on his or her hands.

"What happened to the pilot, Sir" I asked, wondering if he or she had committed suicide.

"That's confidential information right now, Ma'am."

Of course it was.

My hot coco was so going to get cold. I made myself comfortable and looked around at the words, symbols, and such. Letting them seep in. Letting everything else sort of drain out, so my brain could break down the patterns and whatever it did to make sense of languages with the ease it usually did.

Within eight minutes and yes, I was timing myself, I had the gibberish down.

Actually, I had it down in five minutes. I had to read it twice to make sure I had it right.

When I was sure I jumped up and informed the officer, who regarded me with a guarded expression, "Lieutenant Washington, all this is a death letter. The guys probably gonna commit suicide so you should really go find him, and his car."

He wasn't at all surprised about the first.

The second revelation I gave him made his eyebrow rise, similar to the way Ryan's rose, "He doesn't have a car. What about the car?"

I was already halfway out of the cockpit, my foot was looking for the ladder. "Whatever he drives daily…car, boat, bike, plane, it's going to go up in a ball of fire. Whatever he was driving when his copilot died, he's going to destroy."

From the look on Lt. Washington's face, and the speed he hopped up from his seat, I was guessing it was the jet.

Somehow he beat me down and was on the hangar floor first.

This was so not going to be a good day.


	29. Chapter 29

**Noon.**

It was noon when Charles arrived at work and ended up in the locker room. He rushed in and bumped into none other then Jonas, who regarded him with an arched eyebrow. "Is everything good at home?"

Charles had five minutes to change.

He had to wear a button up shirt at the adoption office, and khaki's. It was an official place. "Yeah, everything's fine," he managed.

Having the shirt completely unbuttoned by the time he was at his locker.

Sensing something was up with Grey, Jonas followed him in, and sat down on the bench that ran between the rows of lockers. Knowing there had been some discord yesterday, Jonas inquired, "Anything happen last night."

Charles had the shirt off and was working on his pants.

It took him a minute to realize what exactly Jonas was asking. He glanced over his bare shoulder and caught on. "Oh, no, I mean, everything is fine Jonas. It's good."

Jonas eyed Charles, "You were late this morning."

Charles managed to get the khakis unbuttoned. "Jonas, it's good, we went to the adoption agency this morning." Which made both Jonas's eyebrows rise. "Is that a smart idea right now, Charles? You and Victoria are on shaky ground and you're adopting another child?"

Quickly sliding the khaki's off and replacing them with jeans, Charles sighed, "We got married last night."

Jonas was silent.

Once the jeans were on Charles glanced over at his mentor, "Nothing huge, which I think was what she wanted. Something just for us. It seemed to help her with the needing that assurance of my devotion and all, which, ok, I get, but…" He paused and though it over, then shrugged and grabbed the first clean looking t-shirt he saw in his locker, "I don't care. We're married. We're not fighting. She feels much more secure and we are complete. It's good. Everything is _finally_ good."

"Yesterday she wouldn't even talk to you. Are you sure this isn't too fast?"

Charles pondered it, while pulling his t-shirt on.

Briefly gave it some thought, then asked, "When don't I do anything hasty?"

Jonas was silent.

Charles grabbed his thigh holster. He ripped the Velcro open and waited for whatever Jonas was going to tell him, and he knew it was coming. Charles could tell Jonas had something on his mind.

"Did you marry her for the right reasons?"

"Of course," Charles finished strapping it on, "We were all but married for about a year. We just did the whole paper thing. Don't worry Jonas, we may not be conventional, but we got married for the right reasons."

Silence betrayed Jonas's true feelings.

He snorted, "The only conventional thing about you two is you are male and female." Which made Charles smirk. Quietly he told Jonas, "I love her more then life itself."

Silence followed.

Finally Charles was ready and Jonas asked, "Do you need a crib?"

Confused, Charles blinked, "What?"

"A crib, for the baby to sleep in. I could call Molly and have her dig up our old one. She saved it."

"I don't think we have one of those," Charles pondered. Just as Mack entered the locker room and beamed at the sight of Grey.

"You decided to grace us with your presence after all!"

Charles flipped him off.

"Mack and I could bring it over this afternoon. Victoria will be home right?"

Charles nodded.

Mack paused and turned, wanting to know what Jonas was volunteering him for. "Say what now?"

With a glance past Charles, Jonas informed Mack, "Grey is having a third, so they'll need a crib. You don't mind bringing it over to _Mrs. Grey_, do you?"

Mack paused.

Knowing something was certainly up, and knowing he'd get it out of Blaine later. So he eagerly volunteered, "Sure I'll help." He then shoved Charles's shoulder, "You told me Victoria couldn't get preggers."

Jonas sent Mack a look.

The look was too late.

Charles finished getting his office supplies, "She can't, and we're adopting again. That's where I was this morning." The locker door slammed and Charles met Mack's eye.

But the pity he was expecting was gone.

The pity of a father who had his own and felt for a friend, who could not have his own children. Instead it was replaced with a happiness. "You have to have another son. In five years, all our kids in this place could form a baseball team. They could so beat the Medical Corps kids team."

"I'll suggest that to the wife," Charles smiled.

"You do that," Mack nodded.

**Much later that afternoon.**

Victoria was running late.

She had a million things to do and not enough time. She was halfway through a paper that was due later in the evening, she had to pick up her sons, and she was waiting for a call from the editor. Not to forget Sarah was supposed to call when she got the banking stuff worked out, so she could call the adoption lady, and tell her to go ahead and cash the check she and Charles had written earlier in the day.

When came time to pick up her sons, she finally got off her laptop. Took a quick look in the mirror to be sure she was presentable. Jeans and a black tank top, ponytail – she sighed but had no time.

With impatience she grabbed her cell phone, her purse, glanced at Lola who was passed out on Charles's side of the bed.

And then came what sounded like an explosion, or something coming through a glass window. It could be heard throughout the house. It made Victoria jump and Lola flee to the safety under the bed.

She dropped her phone and purse, heading into the hall where she saw the front screen door in pieces, and two people entering her new home. A hyper muscled young man and a much larger woman, Victoria's heart sank, somehow she knew her day was about to get much worse.

Softly she murmured, "Shit," and closed then locked the bedroom door.

**Meanwhile.**

Mack and Jonas drove slowly down the dirt road, careful not to bounce the wooden crib in the back of Mack's pickup, while Mack loudly announced, "Well I think it's a good thing. Now he'll get to deal with the whole diaper changing experience, late hours and bottle-feeding. He's been bitching about how he didn't get to experience his son as a infant."

Jonas sent Mack a look.

Mack smirked, and held onto the bar above his head, while Jonas steered around a big dip in the dirt road.

"Can you honestly tell me you think they aren't moving too fast?"

With a wave of his hand, Mack braced his foot on the dashboard. "This is Grey. They've been together a while, it's fine. Remember when they began to date? How quick it was that they got so serious? It worked out fine. They've been together for almost two years since he found her. This is a good thing! Now our bowling team is even."

Jonas blew out a breath while Mack snickered.

He drove up around the driveway, past a black Cobalt. Mack glanced at it while Jonas parked and turned Mack's truck off. When they opened their doors, and Mack began to add something, they both heard Victoria's scream.


	30. Chapter 30

**Mack.**

There were screams and then there was silence, which was scarier then her screaming. Which in my line of work meant she was unable to scream. Which was not a good thing.

I ran after Jonas, who ran in through the basement door. Which wasn't unlocked. But he unlocked it with his foot. I followed him on the way through the basement and up the steps, where the door was open and as we made the top steps we saw into the master bedroom.

Some blonde guy who spent a good amount of time was in there, going through the dresser.

Jonas went in the bedroom.

He could have that guy, I wanted dibs on whoever was throwing Victoria around. The sound of breaking glass came from in the kitchen living room area. So I hauled ass down the hall. Just in time to see her physically thrown onto the set dining room table, where she promptly slid across, off, and slammed into the newly painted drywall, denting it, she then landed in a heap on the floor.

Someone stepped out of the kitchen.

This someone was huge.

Taller then me and having a good hundred or so pounds on me. And the person was a she, a scary looking she too.

There was a long cut down the side of her left facial cheek. Along with a fork sticking out of her shoulder. She threw the portable phone in Victoria's general direction.

The dining room table blocked her view of Grey's wife luckily.

The phone bounced off the table and shattered.

The female had a big knife in her free hand. At the sight of me she came at me with it. I used her size against her, ducking under her arm and twisting up behind her. I tried to grab the knife. I had to use both hands. She was a strong bitch and she popped me right in the mouth.

Somehow, I ended up on my ass and tasting blood.

Again, she came at me with the knife, I kicked her legs out from under her, and then moved when she stumbled. I placed a firm kick in her gut. It was as if I hadn't at all. Violently she slashed at me, that was all she could manage, she even managed to nick my knee. Which gave me the perfect opportunity to kick the knife from her hand. She screamed, but then sank her teeth into my calf.

I'll admit, I began to scream and swear.

All technique went out the window, I kicked the wench right in the face. And her grip on my calf never loosened, in fact, her teeth sank in more.

I was so going to shoot the bitch.

The abnormally strong bitch.

How had Victoria not died in her hands?

And speaking of the devil, she appeared with something in hand. She hit the woman over the head with it, and her teeth loosened, I yanked my jean-clad leg from beneath her chompers. My blood was even on her mouth. She then reached for me again. I stepped on her hand, and braced my other foot against her neck. "Get me something to bind her with," I ordered Victoria and off she went.

The Hulk then tried to bite me again.

Her free hand grabbed my ankle.

She was then able to roll on her back, almost knocking me over again. I jumped back and she got up, smiling, the bitch was smiling, like this was some sort of a game.

But, at least I was between her and Victoria. Who hopefully was not too hurt. She stepped closer and I got into stance, prepared for her clumsy but powerful attack, and it came quickly. She just charged at me. Almost completely disabling my attack. I put my foot in her chest hard enough to break a door. Nothing. She was just pushed to the side and kept coming. When I reached up and hit her throat with my fist, she began to choke, gasp and wheeze.

Victoria came out of the kitchen with packing tape.

I reached for her to shove her away, but Hulk plowed into her like a football player, still coughing.

I grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away from Victoria, but her beefy hand grabbed her neck. The tape dropped and Victoria's hand's grabbed the massive one on her neck.

Every single swearword I could think of came to mind. This woman had done this before, she had killed before. I could see it in her gleeful eyes. She held her arms out, keeping me away from Victoria, who was choking.

I twisted from her and grabbed the closest thing I could, an end table by the couch, which I picked up and threw at her. She had to use both hands and let go of Victoria, keeping the furniture from her face.

I leapt between them and shoved Mrs. Grey into the living room. She stumbled in, coughing and wheezing. It was then I decided I needed a gun. Where would Charles keep a gun? To my right was an entertainment center. If I knew Charles and I did…he'd have guns hidden all over the place. On the top were pictures everywhere, I wiped them aside while the Hulk eyed me, planning her next move.

And there was a .9mm assault rifle.

Thank you Betty Blue.

With sure hands I grabbed it, turned the safety off and took aim. Just as Jonas came down the hall.

He had a stun gun.

She looked from Jonas to myself, I had the gun pointed right at her face and was pretty pissed about not being able to shoot the genetic defect of a person. Calmly, Jonas told her, "Get on your knees and you won't get hurt."

She spat at him and then ran towards him.

Jonas tased her before I could shoot her, which really pissed me off. She fell mere inches at his feet. He quickly grabbed the silver tape from the floor, and tied her hands behind her back. When he slowed at two times around, I encouraged, "She's going to need more then that, keep going."

Jonas looked up at me, almost amused, "Having trouble with a woman?"

Still having the gun on the beast, I growled, "She's not any normal woman. She must be on drugs. Tie her ankles and then hog tie her and gag her. She bites so watch the teeth." Jonas rolled his eyes and nodded toward Victoria, "Make sure she's ok."

Oh how I wanted to shoot her in the back of the head.

But, I turned to Victoria, who was on her butt, holding both hands over her neck, shaking like a leaf. "Do…do we need to c…c…call the p…p…police?"

I looked to Jonas for help on that question.

Without looking up he told me, "No. Call Ryan instead, let him decide what to do." While I dug my phone from the recesses of my jeans, and spotted blood seeping through the denim on my calf, Jonas asked, "Were there any others?"

Victoria shrugged, "I…I don't know."


	31. Chapter 31

Cell phone number three buzzed in Colonel Ryan's chest pocket. It was the cell phone of great importance. The cell phone was only called when there was an emergency, which was why I had been bought. The other two cell phones on his person were always ringing. The third promised an open line and quick answer. Ryan fished it from his pocket and put it to his ear, "Ryan."

Mack's voice came over the perfectly clear line, "Sir, we have a problem."

Ryan set his pen down on his desk. He relaxed back in his desk chair, and motioned for the aide in his office who was taking notes to be gone. Once the door closed, he inquired, "What is the problem, Gerhardt?"

Wasting no time, Mack told the colonel, "Sir, Jonas and I happened upon a violent break-in at the Grey house."

There was a pause.

"Was anyone home?"

"Yes, the house is a crime scene and we have detained the two individuals. Do you want us to call the local authorities…"

Ryan immediately cut him off, "No. I'll notify CID. Lets keep this an Army matter. Was anyone hurt?" Ryan already had his office phone off the receiver and finger poised over the buttons.

"Yeah. Both individuals. Myself and Mrs. Grey are a little scratched up," Mack noted, carefully selecting his language, in the event the conversation was overheard by anyone else. Especially with CID on their way. Ryan then told Mack, "Do what you can. I'll send CID and inform them there may be injuries. I'll send someone from the office down too."

At that Mack replied, "Yes Sir," and then he hung up.

Ryan dialed the number for CID, he requested a special agent he knew and who would understand the delicacy of the situation. Especially with it being a crime on local jurisdiction, but occurring to two of his men and a spouse. He then shouted for his aide after finishing up with CID.

The nervous young second lieutenant came in the room. Ryan demanded, "Find me Captain Spacey. Now. Send him to my office."

Once the aide vanished he looked over the training schedule. Looking for where Sergeant Grey was for the time. Seeing that he was in the pool, he grabbed his phone and called down to the pool. Getting one of the diving NCOs, without any chitchat, Ryan demanded, "How long does Sgt. Grey have in the pool?"

The man informed Ryan, "About ten minutes sir."

For a moment Ryan pondered it, then told the NCO, "When he's out of the pool send him to my office." At that the phone was put back on the receiver and waited for it to ring, or someone to come through the office door.

**Meanwhile…**

Jonas stepped back into the rental house as Victoria pressed a second fresh dishtowel to Mack's calf. Blood soaked the other dishtowel she had tossed toward the trashcan, but landed on the floor. She was in mid-sentence, "…think the landlords will evict us?"

Mack made a face.

Balanced on the edge of the couch, he pressed the clean towel firmly against the bleeding wound. "I wouldn't finish unpacking if I were you."

Victoria made a face and then glanced up at Jonas.

Mack followed her gaze.

At the sight of Jonas he raised his red eyebrows. Jonas informed him, "It's clear out there. I found their car at the bottom of the driveway. Is that really necessary?"

Victoria glanced in Jonas's direction.

Both intruders were bound and gagged. On the face of the female was a baseball mitt, which was held firmly in place with duct tape. Acting as a muzzle of sorts. Mack glared at the female, "Did Hannibal Lector take a chunk out of your calf? No? Then don't question me…and I'm not completely sure that person is a female…maybe a She-Male, or it's on steroids."

Jonas kept his face passive. "What did Ryan say?"

Mack watched Victoria tend to his bleeding calf, "CID is on the way." Quickly she looked up, "CID? We're off base."

Mack shrugged, "That's what Ryan wants."

**Twenty minutes later…**

Charles knocked on the doorframe of Ryan's office while he talked intently on the phone to someone. Ryan motioned to Charles to close the door, and Charles did. Ryan then pointed to the chair in front of his desk. Charles had a seat, more then just mildly curious. Ryan continued to talk to whoever was on the phone. When he was finished he hung it up and looked at his soldier.

"Tell me who Layla Perkins is and leave nothing out, Sergeant Grey."

Grey's curiosity reached impressive heights, "Why? What's going on?"

Ryan's cool steel eyes watched Grey closely, "Apparently two of her cousin's broke into your house…" Immediately Grey stood up and Ryan raised his eyebrows, "Just where do you think you're going? You can sit right back down."

Charles ignored him, "Is Victoria ok? Was anyone home? Did someone catch them?"

The phone on Ryan's desk rang.

Ryan glanced at it, ignored it, and then told Grey, "Sit down, Sergeant."

There was a brief moment when Charles considered hitting his commanding officer, and a moment when Ryan thought Grey would actually strike him. Finally Grey sat back down.

Ryan pulled a pen from his sleeve, "CID is at your house. Blaine and Gerhardt happened to be there and managed to stop the attack. No one was seriously injured. So if you would care to explain why these two civilian's felt the need to attack your house?"


	32. Chapter 32

**Sarah.**

After a fulfilling day at the office, Ryan ordered me to go and pick up the boys, not telling me where Victoria or Charles were, nor were they answering their phones. I sensed trickery. However, I had to get more practice shooting done before tomorrow, when I would qualify, so it was field trip time.

Both boys followed me into the off-base shooting range where most the people were Army or Air Force personnel. I guess so they didn't have to worry about the upper people in their command watching them practice. Or seeing what they were shooting which probably had vanished from the armory.

Anywho, I changed into jeans and a grey ARMY PT shirt. Pulled my golden locks, natural, in a ponytail back. Then led the wee-ones through the range. I held my gun case and they carried the bullets.

We all had the earmuffs on.

No one would be going deaf on my watch.

That would be irresponsible of me.

When I found an open land with open booth, which had a small bench and table, we came to a stop. I plopped the gun case on the table. The boys hopped on the bench.

Having been briefed in the car about their jobs, they waited eagerly. Being Charles's son's they had been taught about gun safety when they could talk and it had been heavily encouraged from all of us. Us being Ryan, Victoria and me. Especially after some child on base had killed her brother on accident. There would be no accidental shootings on my watch.

They watched me unlock the case for my .40 and then I handed them the empty magazines.

They were my official magazine loaders. Their small fingers shoved the bullets in so much quicker. Everyone needed an official magazine loader. I situated both boys on the bench and lifted one side of their earmuffs up, "If you need me, tap my leg, don't move."

Both nodded.

We had a system whenever I brought them shooting with me. So, I put the only loaded magazine in my weapon. Pulled the slide back. Cast one look back at the boys who were busy shoving bullets in their respective homes.

Too bad I would never see combat.

I'd never have to reload my own weapon.

The thought made me smile as I practiced my shooting. I had never failed qualifying before. I went through a box of rounds and then took my weapon with me while I bought two Mtn. Dews for my nephews. Both of whom were still loading magazines.

When I returned to our booth with the sodas someone was in it. Which made me pause.

None other then Lieutenant Washington stood, chatting joyfully with my nephews. I took the earmuffs off and caught the end of an off-color joke, which sent the two young boys into a fit of giggles. The officer turned and looked right at me, "You know, there are child labor laws in this country."

I handed both boys their sodas.

Then crossed my arms, "I am aware of that Sir."

As if we had been friends forever he plopped down on the bench. The sound of two soda cans being opened followed. Lieutenant Washington added, "Colonel Ryan never mentioned you having children."

Both of my eyebrows rose.

Not only was he not addressing me by my inferior rank, obviously beginning to ignore the whole fraternization rule. And I was curious how much he and Ryan chatted. I didn't know he chatted with Air Force Pilots often.

"I don't have any. These are my nephews. Colonel Ryan's grandson's," I corrected.

"Ah," he murmured.

I then sprang forth with, "Exactly how did you come by this knowledge? I don't remember ever discussing my relationship with Ryan, or these boys before."

Somehow I amused him. A smile crossed his handsome face. "My father is a friend of Ryan's, they were both clerks."

Ooohhh, gotcha.

I had before me a bonafide military brat. Just like what my offspring would be, Victoria's were and my sister grew up as. What I dreamt of being as a child in my nasty civilian childhood.

As Sarah Mendez I was completely different, a new person. I was able to completely reinvent myself.

"Victoria might know him. She's Ryan's daughter."

"I know Victoria, we went to school together, I think she was a grade or two beneath me. But I haven't met you, I've heard all about you."

Unsure of it was good or bad.

I inquired, "Is there something I can help you with lieutenant?" Wanting to be sure he remembered that there was that officer and enlisted thing. My ass wasn't going to be getting in trouble.

Both boys watched us intently, sipping their sodas. Earmuffs around their necks.

Like we were some sort of entertainment or something.

"Yeah, I'd like to take you and these boys out to dinner, Sergeant Mendez."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He nodded toward the ring on my left hand, "I know about him. I'm not asking you out on a formal date. Just dinner."

I looked to the boys for advice.

Children were pretty good moral compasses. "What do you think boys? Do you want to have dinner with Mr. Washington?"

The boys looked at each other. Victoria and Charles had lucked out, they looked like blood brothers. One could never be able to guess that one boy was adopted. Gabriel inquired, "Where would this dinner take place? We are not attired for formal dining."

No they weren't.

It had been show-and-tell day.

Gabriel was dressed up as Spiderman and Charlie was Indiana Jones.

The lieutenant gave me a look, as if he knew what I was up to. He told the boys, "Wherever you two want to go."


	33. Chapter 33

**Victoria.**

**Three hours later…**

CID Detective whats-his-face was very patient with me while I recounted exactly what have happened repeatedly. We had used the dry erase board and even dolls from next door.

Even when we heard Mack shouting about the she-male in the next room. Who apparently had tested positive for both steroids and PCP. After she had kicked the cage divider into the front seat of the MP car, they had decided she was on something, and it was off to the hospital for her.

The CID Guy, who had been with me the whole time had allowed me to eat and get checked out. But I could not remember his name. All I could notice was the massive mole between his eyes. He had the hint of a German accent, likely from his last duty station.

After the third hour passed I asked, "When will I get to go home?"

He laughed.

I lifted both my eyebrows and he stopped, "Your house is now a crime scene. Not anytime soon. Since your Ryan's daughter you probably will get to move out soon. But I wouldn't expect to go back anytime before the weekend."

I made a face and toyed with my empty Sprite can.

"Can I see Charles," I asked.

Again, he laughed, "He's still giving Ryan and CID his statement. I'd just make yourself comfortable Mrs. Grey."

I made a face.

But looked around the room.

He was a nice CID Guy and was typing on his laptop. When he wasn't working on his report he played Solitaire, I could see so in the reflective windows of the room.

Eventually I laid my head on the table, on my crossed arms and fell asleep. It was a nice deep sleep when I was woken up.

Hours later the door to the room slammed open and I about fell from the chair. Mr. CID Guy jumped too, spilling his coffee all over his lap. Ryan gave him a look and then glanced to me. "Come with me, Mrs. Grey."

I'm sure the CID people knew I was his daughter. But the professionalism had to reign, especially at the office. So I got up and waved to the CID guy, he waved back and wished me the best of luck.

I glanced at my watch, 22:00.

I'd been in the room most the night. I'd missed my night class. Maybe CID Guy would write me a note for the professor.

Ryan closed the door behind me and led me down the Spartan hall. "I had your sister pick up your children. They are staying on-base, I would suggest that you do so too until this whole incident is settled."

Meaning: Don't venture out into the Civilian World.

"For how long? I have classes and banking to do."

"A two days tops. Charles will be out in a moment, I would suggest you stay with either the Blaine's of someone else within these walls." He was giving me an intent look. So I cautiously asked, "Where is Sarah staying?"

From his face I could tell not at his place.

Which would be not so appropriate since she now worked for him, which was why he was telling me pretty clearly to stay with Jonas. Charles couldn't exactly camp out at his house either. That whole chain of command and fraternization thing, the Army really frowned down on that.

"I believe with Sergeant Brown and his family. Their children are friends and Kim Brown eagerly took them in for the evening, until appropriate lodging can be found on-base."

Right…"My boys…"

"Are fine," he assured me. "Take the day off tomorrow with the boys, take them to the on-base air show."

"Is Charles in trouble," I wanted to know.

He had to think about it, which was bad. A rouge janitor walked past us down the empty hall. And then Charles appeared so Dad skated off on that. He had the best luck ever. With a direct look to Charles he informed my newly acquired husband, "Jonas is expecting you for the night."

**Jonas's House.**

Jonas was indeed waiting for us when the CID people dropped us off. I guess to make sure that we were going to the right place. I had the distinct feeling that we were being herded though.

They even held the Jeep's door open for us.

Charles hopped out first, and as one of the CID guys helped me out, I heard another distinctly telling my husband, "We expect a quiet night today Sergeant Grey, no retaliatory acts."

So we were being babysat.

And Jonas was next in the chain. Which was why Charles wasn't allowed to take his personal vehicle. They didn't want him mobile. Which made a lot of sense the more I thought about it. When I saw the glare Charles gave them I noted their concern was not unfounded. But he put his hand on the small of my back and navigated my way up the driveway, around Jonas's truck, and to his front door, which Jonas held open and closed behind us.

Molly was awake too.

Dressed in a fluffy lavender robe. She wrapped her arms around me a hugged me. Smelling nice, like always. She then took my hands, "You must be tired? I'll show you to the guest room." When I looked over my shoulder at the men she told me, "They need a minute."

Of course they did.

Jonas either had a plan or a warning. If there was anyone Charles wouldn't ignore, it was Jonas, another point for my Dad and CID, they had picked a swell babysitter. God knew Mack would help Charles escape and aid in his retaliation.

So I followed Molly numbly, the pain medication hadn't worn off from the doctor visit.

It was non-narcotic. Which was the only reason I was standing and capable of a coherent thought. But I still didn't notice the little trinkets she had picked up from her years as an Army Wife. Or the hominess of her home. She left me in the spare bedroom. Where her daughter used to live while at home. There was a double bed, an exercise bike, and a private bathroom. Molly had already lain out a robe and nightgown for me on the bed. It was flowery. Something my mom would have worn while she was alive.

Molly then gave me another hug, "I'll see you for breakfast. We can chat then."

I'm sure we would.

Once Molly left I dropped on the made bed. Ready to close my eyes and let sleep overtake me. But throughout the entire night I didn't get a chance to talk privately with Charles.

I just had to wait for Jonas to finish his 'don't be an idiot' speech.


	34. Chapter 34

**Charles.**

Just because I had a history of stupid and reckless behavior, didn't mean I was going to try and escape from base, hunt down my ex and kill anyone. That plan died when Ryan informed me there would be no less then three people keeping an eye on me till she was in jail. Civilian Jail too. My plan needed major reworking.

But first I needed to make sure my wife was still my wife, and she hadn't decided to leave me.

After hearing from Mack about the female who took a chunk from his calf, there was a good possibility Victoria might decide I was so not worth this chaos. Which was completely unfounded, the possible she-male had bitten two CID Investigators, and escaped from the MPs. She had even bitten three of the six MPs who had been called to restrain her. Certain people are dangerous and biters. I was hoping Victoria would see that.

So after I assured Jonas I wouldn't flee.

And he told me there were people watching his house, and he had nailed the guestroom window shut, he let me go to bed. I was pretty sure that nailing windows shut was a fire hazard, but I kept that to myself.

I went to the guest bedroom.

I had a working knowledge of Jonas's house, every square inch. It was a pretty basic on base NCO family house. Similar to one Ryan was trying to move us into. And if the landlords were going to get picky about the breakin, Ryan might get his wish.

I must have been frowning at the thought when I got to the guest bedroom. Victoria noticed and immediately sat up straight, from where she had been hunched over and picking at her chipped toenail polish. "What's wrong," she asked, concern etched across her face. She looked almost pure, in that prairie sort of way, in a flowered nightdress. Hair pulled back in a messy bun, with some strands stuck together from when she had obviously washed her face. Even when she wasn't done up fancy she was striking.

"Everything," I told her, plopping down beside her on the bed. She inched over and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer. Her fingers smoothed over my hair and she kissed the top of my head. She put her chin on my shoulder, "Is Mack ok?"

All I could do was smile. But I nodded. She acted highly upset, but she probably could have been. "Did you see that woman? It took like, seven MPs to get her in the medical isolation room. She bit one of the CID guy's ears off. That's not normal behavior."

No it certainly was not normal. She really didn't need to worry about such things. I looked up at her and softly kissed her lips. She seemed to be pretty calm. But she was also Ryan's daughter. Therefore she was talented at hiding things.

"Don't worry about it. I'll worry about it. Everything will go back to seemingly normal in a matter of days."

She gave me a smile. I could tell she wasn't so sure about the whole normal thing. That never really worked well for us. We couldn't even go on vacation without a disaster occurring.

"You know we don't do normal," she smiled. Then she patted the bed beside her.


	35. Chapter 35

"I'm just saying, you should be thrilled you don't have to deal with a pregnant Victoria. You should see this as a gift Charles." Sarah announced to her brother-in-law, while she munched on an Egg McMuffin and they waited on the morning on-base traffic, which wasn't going anywhere. Beside her Charles held a small cup of coffee in his lap. His Egg McMuffin was already eaten, along with both their hash browns.

"I mean Charles seriously, don't you remember her pregnancy? All the throwing things, kicking things, the morning sickness, the hysterics and the 3AM Chinese Food Cravings? Adoption is a Godsend."

What could have been the touchiness of the subject, or the stress from the previous weeks, Charles snarled across the armrest at Sarah, "Well I never got to experience any of those things!"

Sarah made a face and inched her car up three feet. Three feet closer to work. "Yeah well, hold on, I feel some pity coming on…and it's gone. Excuse me but, she never sent you out in foreign cities for Honey Sesame Chicken and Crab Rangoon. And she never kicked shoes at you. And, she never woke you up at 2AM so you could hold her hair while she vomited for hours! Damn Charles, quit bitching, you're worse then me."

Charles glowered and then unhooked his belt. Sarah looked over, "And just what are you doing?"  
Grabbing his backpack from the back seat he opened the door, "I'm going to walk the rest of the way. See you later."

"Hater!" Sarah shouted after him, flinched when he slammed the door, and then slid down in her seat and waited for the bottleneck to be over.

**Meanwhile..**

Molly watched while Victoria set down two plates loaded with waffles in front of her sons, who both began to fight over the single bottle of maple syrup. They wrestled over it till Victoria snatched it from them and handed it to Gabriel, who had it first. Charlie pouted and she gave him a warning look.

"What have you got planned today?"

Victoria made sure there was a peaceful exchange of the syrup, then she sat down and grabbed her mug of green tea, "No clue yet. Isn't there an air show this afternoon?"

"It is. I was planning on going, but I had errands to run…you wouldn't mind coming along for them? I'm sure you need to get out and do things around here too."

Victoria nodded to Molly, distracted, but watching her boys intently.

**Meanwhile…**

A young lieutenant followed Ryan around going over the most recent lawsuits filed against members of his unit. It was the worrisome job of the young officer. There were only three new lawsuits, a record monthly low for the men.

To which Ryan was pleased, his ass chewing had paid off.

The colonel walked into the command room and came to a stop when he saw the empty desk of Sergeant Mendez, he looked to the officer in charge, "Captain, where is the missing sergeant?"

The captain looked up from his computer, "stuck in traffic sir, with several others from the office. It is confirmed there is a three-car accident on Victory Road. Her car was spotted there too, Sir."

Satisfied with that he walked to the desk that had a vase of flowers, he then asked the Captain, "What are these? When did they get here?" Ryan yanked the card off and opened it. While the Captain informed him, "They appear to be roses, Sir. They were there when I arrived an hour ago."

Ryan's eyes scanned the note and then he took the flowers from the desk. Muttered about distractions at work being deadly, and continued on his way through the command center, the nervous lieutenant followed and continued with his briefing.

**Fifteen minutes later…**

Charles found his way to Colonel Tom Ryan's office, vibrating beeper in hand and backpack over his shoulder.

It had taken his eight minutes to track down the colonel after his pager had buzzed in the parking lot. Grey knocked on the door pane and the colonel glanced up, phone pinned between his ear and his shoulder, he motioned for his NCO to come in. Grey closed the door behind him and plopped down in the chair.

It took Ryan a few minutes to wrap up his phone call.

When he hung up the phone Grey was seated in a chair and texting on his cell phone. Ryan cleared his throat and Charles glanced up, "Yes Sir, I got your page."

Ryan leant back in his chair and entwined his fingers, "Good. I'm sending you down south for a week."

A knot formed in Grey's stomach, "For work?"

"Nope. Until I get this mess of your making cleaned up soldier."

Immediately Charles slammed his phone shut and sat straight up, "Sir. I don't think that is a good idea. Last time you took care of something chaotic in my life my wife and child vanished for five years."

Almost annoyed Ryan reached in his desk. He pulled a ticket envelope from his desk and handed it to Grey, who hesitantly took it and opened it. He had to looked at Ryan, then the contents, Ryan again and the contents of the envelope. Confused he inquired, "You're sending us on a cruise?"

"A Disney Cruise," Ryan corrected.

Charles blinked in pure disbelief.

"A week will give me adequate time to arrange for housing on base for you and my daughter. As well as for the authorities to track down this girl and for them to take custody of the two co-conspirators. And for me to file a reimbursement fee for the holding cells the female destroyed last night. This will be a drawn out process of course and there is no need for you or the family to be here while the case if wrapped up."

**A little later…**

Confused, Victoria asked, "Molly, just where are we going?" She looked out the window of Molly's car as her friend turned down Sherman Lane. In the back the boys watched their new DVD, Rambo 2.

The locks on the doors turned.

Locking Victoria in the car.

"Molly," she inquired again.

Calmly Molly replied, "A brief stop before lunch."

Victoria narrowed her eyes and spotted the building up ahead. She then glared at Molly, "You are an evil cold woman."

To which Molly replied, "It's a FRG Meeting, not a Gulag. It won't kill you and you may prove beneficial for some of the younger wives."

Victoria took a deep breath and blew it from her nose unhappily, "I better get a good lunch Mrs. Blaine."


	36. Chapter 36

_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, but there have been major happenings here. So here is a new chapter for everyone. But on a happier note I got season 3 of the Unit, so there may be another story in the_ _future._

**Victoria.**

I had smiled so much my teeth hurt, I had no idea how that was even physically

possible, but it had happened. The meeting had lasted only a few hours, but we

had to stay and socialize. At least I got a good lunch out of it.

After which, Molly drove me to the compound.

I whipped around in my seat, "This is not the air show."

She smiled and sighed, "Colonel Ryan called during lunch and asked me to bring you by before the air-show."

So that's who she was chatting with on her phone earlier. This was so the last time I was going anywhere in the car with her, ever. Molly drove through the first gate and then stopped her car. She glanced over at me, "I have to run home. I'll take the boys with me. Ryan only needs you for a few minutes he said, to sign some paperwork."

Of course he did.

She glanced up over my shoulder, I followed her gaze and saw two of the guards from the compound. They opened the door for me. Superb. So I hopped out of the car.

Molly held my purse out for me.

One of the guards added, "You will need that Mrs. Grey."

Both of my eyebrow's rose.

My stomach sunk and I knew this wasn't going to be pleasant. So I grabbed my Coach bag and strolled past the two guards. They hurried after me. Into the building we went. Through the checkpoints and metal detectors and such we went, like Dorothy and her armed companions.

I didn't bother to ask where I was going, or what Dad wanted me to sign, or even why I was there. They wouldn't know.

Sarah waved to me.

She was seated at her desk with earphones on and was taking furious notes.

There was a Coca Cola on her desk and a box of Nicotine gum. Quitting smoking was likely to kill her before the ciggy's.

When they dropped me off in front of a door, it opened, and another person in uniform let me in.

In the room was my husband and my Dad, both were talking about a cruise to the Bahamas, a Disney cruise no less. Which was just obscene to me. They glanced up and the door closed, papers were on the table. This was so not good. I chewed on my bottom lip and asked, "So…Molly works for you too?"

Dad pushed out a chair across from him, "Have a seat. Sergeant Grey here has told me about your recent nuptials."

I looked over at Mr. Grey who had a Disney Cruise vacation brochure. Not yet sitting down, "Are we going somewhere?"

Last time I went somewhere I was gone for five years. Whenever Dad mentioned vacations now I got nervous. "Absolutely, have a seat, I need your signature on some papers first. After that you and the boys will be on a much needed vacation."

I looked to Charles, he merely raised his eyebrows.

So I looked to Dad and plopped down in the seat, I dropped my purse on the table and Dad placed papers and a pen in front of me. Naturally I flipped through the papers. Which were housing papers. Base housing papers. "Dad, we haven't been thrown out yet."

Which was true.

The landlords hadn't called yet.

In that firm colonel voice he told me, "You know what I require from all my men and their wives. This is a security issue and you both seem to be a walking security issues."

That wasn't fair, but it was true.

I frowned but knew the papers were going to have to be signed eventually. When I looked at the papers again I noticed Charles had already signed them. He had signed the base housing paper. The beneficiary changes for all the bank accounts, pay checks and all that good stuff. Seven papers worth of stuff. All of which

Charles had signed.

Since he'd signed it I wasn't about to argue with him. So I grabbed the stupid pen Dad had offered and signed on all the papers. Pretty annoyed, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Dad had been pretty lenient with me compared to the other wives and girlfriends. The special treatment had to end I guess.

When I came to the last sheet of paper I paused.

I'm sure Dad had just thrown that in there hoping I would sign it. When I looked closer I saw it was a alibi. Already stamped by the notary. Which stated pretty much what happened, excluding Mack and Jonas.

I glanced at my Dad, "Isn't this perjury?"

Especially with the notary stamp and all.

"Not at all."

I looked to my husband, who gave me that _'are you surprised'_ look. As if nothing Ryan ever did surprised him anymore. I looked back to the paper and signed it. If we went to jail for perjury Charles and I would be together. So I signed on the stupid alibi and shoved the paperwork to my Dad. He then told me, "Molly will be back with your boys and luggage, in about three hours you'll be in Miami. Where you will board the cruise and enjoy some well earned vacation."

I looked at Charles who nodded in affirmation.

My Dad was a tricky devil.

Out of mild curiosity inquired, "Exactly what are you going to do with our current security breach. Out of mild curiosity."

Efficiently he stood and organized the papers, then evened them out by snapping them on the table, "Nothing to concern yourself with. You two enjoy yourselves on your cruise."

He was giving us nothing.

I looked to Charles. Who gave me that '_I'll tell you later_' look. Ryan paused on the way to the door. "I'll have everything moved from one house to the other, and your dog will be at my house when you return."


	37. Chapter 37

_Author's Note: Ok, since I just got season 3 of The Unit on DVD, and haven't seen the whole thing yet, I'm leaving Sarah and Mack off here. Since I don't know exactly what happened to Tiffy and Mack. And I live in a rural area and don't even get CBS, so it'll be a while before I see Season 4, so if anyone wants to offer anything…feel more then free. Thanks!_

**Sarah.**

I didn't get it.

Charles and Victoria cause holy hell and they get to go on a Disney Cruise, when I raise holy hell, I get my ass chewed out for thirty minutes by Ryan for fraternizing with a Air Force Officer. I didn't even kill anyone and he threatened to dock my pay. It was so not fair.

I got the whole ass chewing.

Red face and arm waving, it was amazing.

And when I yawned the threatening began.

I didn't even know how he knew.

But threatening to dock my pay was going to far.

I didn't even bring homework due to that. He'd have to deal with the backup on my desk.

The man was amazing anyway.

So when I went home and discovered Mack sipping a beer and all splayed out on the couch in my cabin, I was surprised to say the least. The shouting about fraternizing had carried down the hall through his office door. Mack had surely heard it. It wasn't like we were even dating and besides he was married, and I was not near over Armando.

I dropped my bag on the floor and locked the cabin door.

I still remained dry-docked in the trailer park. With Victoria being herded on base, I would remain here a while longer. My keys were put on the mermaid wall hook, "What are you doing here?"

Not bothering to ask how he got in the locked sailboat. That was a stupid question when addressing men such as these.

I walked into the kitchen.

Never having learned all the important sea terms. A galley was a kitchen, right? I didn't care. I grabbed a coke from the fridge pack and noted the tin of dip, truck keys, and spare change on the counter with a leather wallet. Nice to know Mack felt comfy enough to make himself at home.

"Tiffy has the girls. Grey's away and Jonas is with the wife. And you have four hundred TV channels.

The TV wasn't on.

He was staring out the window. Probably at my crack-head neighbors. They were entertaining.

I popped the soda tab and set out to make my salad. "Take off your boots, or get them off my coffee table. This isn't a barn."

He kicked the boots off, "Do you realize your neighbors have a bong on their picnic table?"

"Last week they had the sex-swing out," I informed him. Finding the lettuce, tomato and cucumber. I dumped them on the counter and grabbed the BBQ Smoked Chicken Balls from the fridge. "Did you eat?"

His blue eyes focused over on me, "No. You didn't have a date with flyboy tonight?"

I wasn't even going to dignify that with a response.

I flipped him off and looked for a sharp knife.

Upon finding the knife I grabbed a cutting board in the shape of a surfboard, turned, and he was leaning against the kitchen counter watching me. Beer gone. And barefoot. He really shouldn't have gone barefoot with those cowboy boots, but I wasn't about to be his mother.

Then I demanded of him, "Do you know what the problem with straight men is?" This seemed to mildly amuse him, "Do tell." I ripped open the box of chicken balls, ripped the bag open, dumped them on a plate, and popped them in the microwave. "They don't understand the word no. I tell them I'm not ready to date. I'm not over my husband. I'm not ready for a relationship yet. And nothing, it's like I'm Charlie Brown's mother. Straight men just don't get it."

Mack was silent for a moment.

He watched me slice the tomato and didn't speak till I tossed him a chunk. "There's nothing wrong with that, Sarah. You'll always love him."

I sighed and looked down at the pieces of tomato. The microwave whirled and the lettuce awaited chopping. "I miss him all the time and everyday. It can't be healthy. His death destroyed my life and I can't seem to pull the pieces together, I don't even feel like the same person. The spark is gone."

He took that in and held out an arm to me.

I liked to pretend that he understood me. What with his failed marriage, torture and all that. So I went over to him and let him hug me. Feeling at least a little better.

This could not be healthy.

**Later that night…**

Mack strolled out of my bedroom in a pair of boxers he had left from one of his previous sleepovers, towel drying his short carrot hair. Which was just absurd to me, but, whatever. I made a face that expressed my disbelief from my spot on the couch, barefeet on the coffee table and a brand new episode of COPS being filmed at the neighbors trailer across the street.

Someone had called in the bong on the table tip.

My own hair was up in a towel and I donned a t-shirt I'd picked up in the Heathrow Airport, a glorious image of their flag. And underoos to match. Classy, I know.

He plopped down beside me, "Diarying?"  
I glared, "Plans for world domination."

Unlike most he didn't try to look. Instead he grabbed a magazine from my table. Conde Nast Traveler. "I think you and Charles subscribe to the same magazines," he commented, and then plopped his less then pretty feet beside mine. Which had a toe ring and purple painted toenails.

"Bite me," I suggested.

Flipping open the magazine he nibbled on my ear and that was about it. He did scoot back on the couch and put his feet on my lap. There had been enough sleepovers I switched writing hands, and rubbed his feet, while I continued to journal.

This was seemingly healthy.

Armando would have been almost proud, minus the previous gymnastic sex. But progress was progress.


	38. Chapter 38

**Four months later.**

**Victoria.**

"I thought we were getting a boy," Mack remarked, puzzled by the newborn wrapped in a pink blanket with a pink knitted cap upon his red head. I took the tiny creature from the nurse and told Mack, "They dress newborns in opposite gender clothing to confuse the mother giving them up, so they aren't able to identify the baby." I told him this never lifting my gaze from my newborn son.

Charles was gone.

So Mack had come with me.

Jonas had planned to, but the day before he had been sent out.

Since Mack was stuck here for court he came with me.

The nurse smiled at us both, "He's a healthy baby boy. Have you two decided what you are naming your new son yet?"

He wasn't heavy. Being early I was not surprised. And he was sleeping which surprised me, as he was four hours old.

Without correcting the nurse, Mack informed her, "We're naming him Hector."

She made that 'awww' face.

Then she patted Mack's arm, "I'll leave you two alone with Hector for now. Call me if you need anything."

I nodded that I would while I stared intently as the newborn in my arms. Then I looked up at Mack, "Do you realize you have held both of Charles and my newborns before him?"

Mack thought about that for a minute and then held out his hands, "Divine Intervention. They need to be held by a higher authority first."

I made a frown, but handed Mack my sleeping son. With the care of a father he took the infant and never woke him. The sleeping child did not so much as move in the transfer. Mack held him close to his chest and rocked the baby. It was obvious he wanted another baby, or a son, or both.

"Look at that, he knows he's safe in my arms and continues to sleep. It was the same with both Bob's newborns."

I'm sure it was.

Mack rubbed his tiny hand and rocked my baby, softy humming some unknown tune to him.

Eventually Mack gave me my son back. Announcing that his middle name should be MacDonald. I told him to take that up with Charles. And then I asked, "Do you think he'll remember his birth mother at all?"

Mack made a face.

"No. You're his mother. He may mistake me for his father, with my being the first man he sees." I sent another scathing look at him and he took a seat in the chair, in the little private waiting room the hospital had given us. Then I looked back down to my son, "No you won't. Your father will be home soon, and he will love you forever and ever. That's just your uncle over there." As an afterthought I added, "You'll get to see your grandfather and brothers today."

Mack helpfully added, "Gabriel is his uncle too."

That was true.

"We're raising them as brothers, we've had this talk with Gabriel and he decided he wanted to be a brother, not a uncle. He told us he was too young to be a uncle," I so informed Mack, still watching my sleeping son.

Mack laughed at that.

Then he asked, "So do I get to give him the gun safety course too? The younger the better."

I did glance up at him, "Hopefully Charles will be home for that. Plus, I think Hector needs to get a little older." We had to gun-proof the house again, and Dad's house, and Sarah's house. Until Hector could be taught about them.

"Can I teach him to swim?"

"Get your own son," I smiled at Mack, then looked down again at mine.

"Fine, but I'm teaching him to sight a weapon. I am much better at it then Charles. And I'm better at repelling. I'll teach him that too," Mack declared from his chair. Inspiration struck him and he reached in the Army Camo Green diaper bag, a gift from the guys on B Team. Mack extracted a bottle, "I want to feed him first. Hand him over. You can change his first diaper."

**Later that night…**

We made it home an hour late. We would have been back sooner, but someone had cut Mack off on our trip around St. Louis and woke Hector up, so he chased them down for a good four miles. Only my declaring he was scaring the baby made him stop.

When we made it home he pulled into Dad's driveway, where apparently half the base waited to great the newest baby to the Logistical Unit. They were all crammed in the nice house.

Mack, all fatherly, grabbed the diaper bag and then told me, "Ryan's spotted us."

Which was no big surprise. When we had reached the one-minute late mark he had called me, and every five minutes after that he called. No sooner had I gotten his new grandson from his baby car seat, did he appear beside me, kiss my temple, and then demand to hold his new grandson.

The only good thing was that Ryan in no way was letting anyone else hold the precious bundle. So I handed Hector over, wrapped in a blue blanket Kim had gotten for him. With a smile reminiscent of Ryan's youth he looked down at the alert boy. Who looked at Ryan as if he were suddenly adjusting to things outside the womb.

"Don't let anyone hold him," I added, handing Dad a bottle from the bag.

He took the bottle, declared, "Don't worry" and was sprinting into the house with my newborn. Leaving me there with Mack. Who wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. "Told you everything would be fine. You have your Army Family back now."

I gave him a glare.

Mack drug me up the walk, likely in a hurry to get inside and eat whatever food was left over from A, B, and C Team, plus wives and various other peoples. Just as my angels ran past Ryan and toward us, dressed in an ensemble not seen since the last Rambo movie.

Everything would be fine?


End file.
